You know what’s kind of beautiful?
In French, you don’t really say “I miss you.” You say “tu me manques,” which is closer to “you are missing from me.”
I love that. “You are missing from me.” You are a part of me, you are essential to my being. You are like a limb, or an organ, or blood. I cannot function without you.
FUCK.
Everyone judges you before even meeting you.
What the fuck just happened these past months.
I love the “talking” stage.
You know, the part of the relationship where you get to know the person first. You’d do anything just to impress the person, trying to get them to like you. The part of the relationship where all you want to do is talk to the person and your head is just focused on making them become yours. Everything’s just cuter, especially those never-ending text messages and those late night phone calls.
