(no subject)
Why is it that sometimes when you ask for love, you get tipsy turvy madness instead?
I want someone who thinks about me when I'm not around. Who isn't ashamed to tell me they missed me. Who's not afraid to tell me how they feel. Who backs up "I love you", with "here, let me show you".
I don't care that much what he/she looks like. Beauty is found in kindness and gentleness and intelligence as much as it is symmetry and perfect features or abs. I would rather the former attributes.
Is it so hard? When love shows its face, why can't it be the love that reconfirms my faith in humanity, not the love that makes me question myself and doubt their motives. That is not love. That is complication. I don't want a soap opera. I want the kind of peace and security you get from knowing that your vulnerabilities are safe in the hands of your lover.
So where is it?
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