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Hey 👋 if you don't mind me asking do you believe in love at first sight
Hello.
No, I don't mind you asking. Good question, however, because I honestly have never thought about it.
I've not yet had an opportunity to romantically find love in such an instance. But, if you gave me enough time to think about it, I suppose that love at first sight does exist, in a unromantic way.
With my first sibling, my father says that it was love at first sight and that I absolutely adored them from the moment I set eyes on them at the new age of two years old. You could have said that the baby was a belated birthday present. Apparently, my mother often chastised me for kissing the baby’s very delicate skin because it was ever so sensitive. I often got blamed for causing rashes to blossom, especially around the forehead or under the eyes. If only the idiot could have seen how much I loved them so when they were a baby.
I first fell in love platonically when I was eleven when I met my first friend. I guess you could have called it love at first sight because all I remember about meeting her for the first time was that I would do anything to be the best friend she could have ever have. Thankfully, she saw that and took a chance on me, a child who had never truly understood friendship until then. I love her very much and even though we are complete opposites in looks and personalities, I see her as a sister. We try and talk to each other over the phone once a week.
Even though it would say the opposite about me, the poor thing, it was true love at first sight when I first saw the violin. I just fell in love with it. At eight years old, I was convinced that I'll be playing until my fingers become obsolete. My first violin, even though it's too small for me to play comfortably, is one of my most beloved possessions. It now lives with my mother in the crawl space underneath my old bunk bed and I still refuse to let her throw it out. It has been a while since I last picked up a bow but I think I could still play one of my exam pieces from memory. All I know about romance is heartache, unfortunately. I could tell you all about that instead. I know broken hearts more than I know about unbroken ones. I’m sorry.
Did I successfully manage to answer your question?
I'm still young, who knows? Someone might surprise me in the future.
click herhttps://www.highratecpm.com/u2x6m8xs7?key=0c7fcd49de8560dd417d070ad3e70cfb
passion.
it's supposed to be the burning flame,
the light that guides you forward,
the torch that lits the way.
but
sometimes,
the flame reduces to nothing but a spark.
and
the light seems so far that all you see is darkness.
and sometimes,
the torch burns a bit too much,
leaving us all in burned pieces.
~K
Girl. When you start to actually KEEP THINGS PRIVATE, it comes to you. I'm not even kidding it comes like a magnet trust me.
~°•🤍•°~
It is weird, indeed, that I miss having my hands cold, fingers purple and shaky breath because of the shattering cold in the middle of december. I miss it 'cause I knew you'd come with yours, to collapse with mine, and warm them under murmured words of love.
Maybe even weirder that I loved your hands cupping my prune cheeks perfectly, as crystal flakes of snow wet my hair. And just how you looked at me,even though I looked horrible in the night...somehow, your blue eyes saw me so magestic, trough a lens.
-
"Even in the night, see? Even here you are beautiful. You're my girl. My beautiful girl."
_
That's how you sang to me. In cold nights of December, after school and after theatre hours on Fridays. I've signed my name across your heart once, and signed it deep. So it remains there, no matter how much you try to change the heart that I wrote it on.
If it is like this, if this is the truth...Then why did you leave? With your heart still bleeding from the blade that I signed myself in..?! You still longed for me when your ego decided for you; that's why you bled.
Now who will kill my grief in the snow, just how Mother Nature soothes the pain of a dead dove by sinking it deep into soil?
Will you let me falter again and again and in the freezing cold, staring from a close distance...yet not moving an inch?
Now I love Winter...because of you. For as long as we were one, together, I loved it. Because it felt just like looking at you, like touching you, like speaking to you. Now's why the cold didn't hurt me, it welcomed me. Why the snow was warm to my palms, like your face was in them. Why the taste of snow was like your lips slick on mine. Why the cascades of winds surrounded me, just.like.your voice...praising me.
-
"Yeah she's..she's just a girl in my class. Her name's ______ or something..."
_
A/N:Okay I know, it's just me blabbering about long lost love (silly me😭) I still cannot let go off sometimes.
~°•🤍•°~
Lyric Credit- Hybe lables/Tomorrow X Together
nova! i know 2 languages (english and spanish). minor. loves art and literature. she/her thx. intp. taurus. biggest dragon nerd on the planet. kavehtham all the way! andarnas #1 fan. plays the violin and piano, crocheting will always have my heart. i love writing for yall, tho writers block is a terminal thing, soooo, if i take long, please be patient! i love drawing soooo much, i havent painted as much as i used to but i have a love for that as well. reading is my goat #xaddy all the way.
requests and asks open! - dont be rude, spams are nice and maybe a follow would be too?
things i like:
more is yet to come!
~~————————-_~•*^’^*•~_——————~~
what is going on here…?
Big Rich Old Man’s Status
In a small town named Poovar, there once lived a man called John Franklin. He was absolutely humble. He was a hard working man. He lived with his wife and two sons. He loved to work, and made enough money to feed himself and his family and he always went on vacations with them. He was really gentle to all his fellows and helped if somebody asked him to. His boss Mr. Kanata was also very happy with him and his work, as he completed all his work and did some more and was very quiet. He was a person who minded his own business. Slowly, John got promotions and now he was a really busy man. He got more load of work and he started working overtime. He went early, when everyone was asleep and came late when everyone was already sleeping calmly in their cozy beds. During this time his children going to school and young, he changed. John changed from a person very calm and who loved his family to a person who loved the loud harsh sounds of machines and who loved to work overtime to make some extra money. He got so busy that he forgot that even has a family. He worked tirelessly, thinking to make a good amount of money that he can save for his two sons. He got old and soon at his death bed he made his will giving his property equally to his wife and sons. The day came of his funeral and he was to be buried in a peaceful graveyard. There were few people, his wife and sons, his few fellow friends and the priest of course. Their he laid peacefully thinking that all he did was for his sons. John after he died remembered his wife and children the most and decided to go back to them. He went to his house and saw that his wife was now happily married to one of his friends who was a widower himself and both of his sons were using his money carelessly and did not speak good of their father. One of his sons said, “Happy he died! He at least left us with some money, because all his life he was too busy for us. No wonder mother married again.” he said half happily and half sadly. John’s spirit heard this and he was thrown in his past life flashbacks all he could recall was memories where he was working after some time he came across one frame where he was sitting with his wife and sons and was happy. He was young and was playing ludo with his family, intentionally losing to his sons. He thought what he had become. A man who feared to lose and was angry if he did lose. He was now guilty and thought that how he has wasted his life making money for his children and his wife but never cared for them. Never spent enough time with them. John’s spirit was too sad, it went back to it’s grave and just hoped that in another life, he should learn his priorities first.
Animals and their mates. Particularly the old, beaten and weathered white and gray cat and his beautiful turtleback calico wife. I can't get a clear picture of her front, though.
The dogs on the left are strays. The dark and slightly rugged dog that follows his pale aspin. I saw how the paler dog would take the lead and occasionally stop waiting for the other. She would occasionally sniff the darker one, and run off in a little canter.
she was a puppy wrapped in wolf skin. And it took me ages to see— but when I did, I never let go.
my gentle hands, my tender hold, learning her softness beneath the wild.
A life-changing epiphany.
A complication.
A trepidation
that even in
the insurgents,
the ones with
bottles and bottles
of red pills,
the Mavericks.
Within them,
lies those
still
enslaved by
the very fruits of their rebellion.
A life-changing epiphany.
A complication.
A trepidation
that even in
the insurgents,
the ones with
bottles and bottles
of red pills,
the Mavericks.
Within them,
lies those
still
enslaved by
the very fruits of their rebellion.
And the prominent
question man
is not in who
loves us,
but
in who returns
the love
when we offer
it first.
Meaning of words.
You said then
that
my love murders
you in a beautiful
way
and that you don't
think of an
existence without
it
so in that i
thought you
would go extinct
upon our failure.
But as time grows
all i have seen is a you
blooming.
Was it a lie ?
and my love
was totally a nothing
to you ?
please
please tell
me
and tell
the one
murdering you
now
not to highly think
of things for
all of it is
just a jumble of
words.
I have given up on everything except the believe, in thyself as if am anything special
If you think I need love, read me instead and dare to accept what you have seen on the crappy pages. Cram me I yearn to be known by not the world but you, the one who think I deserve some love.
life is all that we got,ours not there's.
art by @kmcvisuals
Is it human to destroy hearts in the seek for love ? Why isn’t it immoral not to love as you are loved ?
Love can be mastered. Days as they surpass each other love can grow where it never was. Though, the art of loving yourself is surely a hard seed to plant, grow or finally harvest.
All the romance. All the dreams. All the love. we thought to give but never did, at some point fades away and we are left to settle with anything that works. In the end its only what we never wanted to become, to have, to reflect that we cheer with.