Infatuated.

 

in·fat·u·a·tion
noun
1.  an intense but short-lived passion or admiration for someone or something.
“he had developed an infatuation with the girl”

.

Temporary and short-lived.  Focus and intensity.

Emotion, too much emotion.

Is it bad to be infatuated too easily? All that crazy emotional roller-coaster, that physical and mental obsession that pushes the senses to an all time high. An addictive passion, a quick flirt.

I’m infatuated, with places.
Places I’ve visited, places I missed.
Places I haven’t seen, but only dreamed about in my ever-growing Pinterest board.
Places I’ve planned, only to postpone, yet again.

I’m infatuated, with food.
The aroma, the taste, the colours.
Everything that brings a plate together, a simple over-complicated pleasure.
Food is satisfaction, food is life. Food is, happiness.

I’m infatuated, with life.
The comings and goings, the who and whats.
And then there’s the why. That incurable curiosity of the unknown.
Reading, learning, thinking. Why.

And then, there’s you.

I’m infatuated, with you.
We talk of things of times way past, of what could happen soon.
That sparkle in your eye, the intrigue it caused.
Drawing me in, deeper into the vortex of emotions.

I’ve laughed and I’ve cried. The overexertion, that mental anxiety. Over-thinking, over-analysing, over-worrying
– and eventually, over-everything. Then it ends.

A quick high, a quick low.

I’ve yearned for the impossible. Infatuated with the desire to feel, say, think of things I normally never would. The pleasure of always growing, always learning, always feeling.

And we both know, the cycle will begin again with a new place, a new food, a new life and a new you.

 

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Interruption.

A sip of peppermint tea, and another scrape with a ballpoint pen.
The sharp squee of the sliding doors.
Echoes of footsteps on the wooden floor, pattering to the steady rhythm of Earth, Wind and Fire.

“…after the love has gone~”

Another scrape of pen to paper.
Across, the steady typing on a black keyboard.

An accidental upward glance, eyes met.
Confusion. Then, a smile.
Back again, pen to paper, resuming from the interruption.

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