Passionate women are like fires: often misunderstood and unfairly written off as wild, troubled, broken. And a fire left unchecked can be destructive; for example, a wildfire traveling through a forest. They’re unrestrained passion bordering rage.
Yet if that same fire is burning in a fireplace, people are able to appreciate its natural beauty and warmth, especially when they can feel how cold the outside world is. All because the fireplace has the depth (and through that, the capacity) to channel the fire’s unbridled energy.
Passionate women are the same way. They need someone who loves with a depth that matches their passion; someone they can burn for, and in the sense of having that love reciprocated, to burn within.
Monday, October 19, 2015
It’s bullsh*t to think of friendship and romance as being different. They’re not. They’re just variations of the same love. Variations of the same desire to be close.
sometimes honesty is selfish. sometimes honesty is about making yourself feel good. sometimes honesty is about moral high-grounds and principles and lines in the sand. sometimes honesty is as much of a lie, as anything else you could say. sometimes honesty is a way to break, to shatter. sometimes honesty harms. sometimes, the greatest kindness is a lie.