Oh the perils of love and the infatuation of lust. Both beautiful places to be in, but imperative that you distinguish the two. Both feelings are consuming, but one sneaks up on you in most cases without you even realizing it. You’re living life and enjoying the company of this new love in it. You’re just doing life with that person. You check in because you want to. You expect them to check in because they need to — because the feeling of not knowing what you’re doing through the day haunts them. & vice versa. When you’re not with them you crave them, and when you’re with them you can’t get enough of them. & it’s not to be confused with the sexual desire for them. The sexual desire is there yes, but it’s not everything. Oh no, it’s not just that. It’s their company you crave most. Just them being in your orbit and you being in theirs. I’ve always found substance and depth there. Whether that means you’re watching TV, lounging around and they’re cooking dinner a few feet away. One isn’t necessarily uber concerned with what the other is doing. Appreciative only of the fact that they are in each other’s space, each other’s orbit.
That’s love.
And lust? It definitely isn’t love. It’s the sexual compatibility that is the basis and core of this connection. It might have a friendship aspect to it eventually, but that’s not its root. Its root is a craving for them sexually… almost always. When you think about your time with them, you think about the sex. Or sexual encounters. It consumes you. Daydreaming about those moments spent with them and you can focus on nothing else. Your mind is cognizant of the details that revolve around the lust and not much else. Where are they from again? How many siblings do they have? What kind of movies do they enjoy? You don’t know the details that makes up the man, but the things that make up your lust for the man.
He’s 6’5 with brown eyes, big hands and big feet. Oh you wouldn’t dare forget those things. Your craving is different. You don’t crave being in their orbit if one thing doesn’t lead to another. No, you’d rather get to the deed and be done. Till the next time you get that itch that you choose not to scratch alone.
That’s lust.
This begs the question, is it love or lust then?
I’ll leave you to be the judge of your situation and assign it to its appropriate category.
To love sneaking up on you and embracing its many layers, if that’s your story. Or letting lust lead you safely, if that’s your story.
Thelms
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