There’s that word again. Need. I need you. I need you to need me. How nauseating, to need another human being, as if their heart is in your throat. Love isn’t about need. Don’t romanticize the notion of desperation. Let me let you in on a secret: you don’t need me and I don’t need you. We can get through life just fine without each other. Love is not wanting to. We want each other, we want skin and hands and all our daily scars. We want intoxication and art museums and intertwined limbs. We want ferocity in our lips and slow, small circles traced on our stomachs. I don’t need you in my life, but goddamn I want you in it.
you know how when you go to a concert or show of some sort and the person on stage is like “HOW’S EVERYONE DOING TONIGHT?!?!?!?!” and the audience cheers back? why? you’re not answering the question, you’re just yelling. imagine if we did that in daily conversation. “hey jeff, how are ya?” and jeff just starts screaming and clapping in your face
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Fact submitted by: can-thandlethisweird