The paradox of loving

People have lost the art of immersion.

People are afraid to get lost in love, afraid to say things like “… Most of all, Rochelle, it’s the twists in your hair, the way you clasp your hands when you laugh, the way you utter every syllable with the utmost respect, your lips are decadence, your hips, your hips, your slender hips, but back to your lips… ”

When our hearts gush, we set out dams, waiting for the right time – praying for a sign. Listen, the universe aligns just fine!

Balance fortitude and vulnerability. A flower needs the sun and bees; still it keeps its thorns and roots.

You are made of the finest dust and God’s golden breath. Be your chief lover. Sip wine; seek solace in the caves inside. Don’t let anyone define you. Give the perception of your truest intentions.

Respect is more important than love. Don’t let the grip of infatuation trap you in false intimacy. Passions stray and stain. Check your ego before you kiss her neck, lest you whisper untruths for careless caress. Forgive yourself for not living up to your idylls.

Know that you risk eliminating the discography of your favourite artist with each serenade.

Conflict of heart? Knotted soul? Troubled mind? If it’s Hollywood, it’s not a good sign.

If your heart skips a beat,

see your doctor.

Send roses to your mother more often.

One more thing, I hope you are not looking for someone to complete you, mend you or be you. That’s selfish – and silly too.