Hearts to break, naps to take.
It’s a different kind of love. It’s not like domestic-bliss love. Something else is what it is, like wanting to hang out and laugh because you think they’re so f***ing great you can’t believe it. It can be confusing because there’s definitely a sexual undercurrent, but you don’t want to live or go grocery shopping with them. You want to make things, talk about loud, important things with them. And stomping down the street together, you feel like two warriors, laughing with grotesque abandon. And I think by nature it’s not a jealous love, because the more the merrier and the louder you laugh. Sore throats in the morning say how much fun you had the night before.
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