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Wind in hair

love, passion, suffering

i've figured out romance. i've figured out love. it isn't about counting the stars together, it isn't about moonlit walks and candlelit kissing, it isn't about beauty, it isn't about interests, it isn't about conversation, it isn't about beliefs. it isn't about compatibility. it's about passion, and passion— as i learned in latin— really means suffering. love is about suffering.

not the suffering you go through when you fight. not the suffering that people inflict on each other heartlessly and cruelly. but the suffering of when you're not together. the swelling pain in your chest when you remember how much they are to you. the prolonged desperation for release when you fuck. the unbearable realization of their own person. it's suffering that hurts and suffering that doesn't hurt, suffering that you transcend, suffering that you desire with every part of yourself. suffering that you wouldn't trade for anything.

at least, that's what love is for me.

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