Not to worry readers, I won’t interest you by delving into my personal life too much.
I bring you the subject of love, rather than a love subject. This has been spurred on from a conversation I was the main attraction of this evening in the pub.
As a topic, love, or more the case limerence, is a troubling feeling.
More so troubling when you don’t have the gall to tell that person you quite fancy them, you wouldn’t mind seeing them naked and perhaps spending some time clothed with each other either.
Perhaps it’s easier to start with the naked part. Admitting any sort of love is difficult for some – especially when there is an uncertainty of reciprocation.
I’m quite the listener – I generally do not take part in a personal discussion about myself unless I’m very comfortable with the company or a few pints under. I’ve learned to bury/save my feelings as a sort of inevitable “it’ll never work”.
Time is of the essence.
Peace out xoxo