People our age are afraid of the idea of love. It is binding, it is daunting, it’s not cool. Well, for fuck’s sake, I’m not cool. And I want to fall in love; I might even want to fall in love with you. I have this tremendous capacity to love and I am drowning in it. With the effort it takes for me to remain aloof and unattached, I am quietly, quietly submerged in this innate and overwhelming need to love.
But here’s the thing, I can’t “kind of” love you. I can’t fall “a little bit” in love with you. I am going to love you in a way that is going to warm you, in a perpetual sort of way. I am going to love you with the patience of the Pacific Ocean, with which I grew up. I know the resilience of the sea. Some say that this is my fatal flaw but it is something I refuse to change. Because how sad is it, to dull that part of your humanness? As we grow up, so many aspects of our lives turn to gray scale with the dawning of reality to temper our aspirations. But I will not learn to love hesitantly. I do not fall often, I’m choosy, but when I do, it will wash us both ashore.
(Große Worte über Liebe, der ganze Text von Heidi Liu im Thought Catalog sehr lesenswert.)