When an overthinker tells you they love you, believe them…

If you’re not in pursuance of peace then you’re bound to chase things that aren’t conducive to your wellbeing, and it’s wise to set perimeters, and screen those who tax your sanity.  
 
It’s important to identify energy that compromises your peace, and recognise who’s balanced, capable & open to channelling a mutual flow, that compliments you and your inner landscape.  
 
I still haven’t landed that concept, just yet.  
 
And when it’s been a long day, and we need a smidgen of  stress relief, I gravitate towards you for the purpose of debriefing, which oft entails all things sensory to work off the stress associated with the underlying issues that emerge, during the work day.  
 
Evidently, the conundrum we’re facing isn’t a minor issue as we share a heartfelt, soul deep bond that’s sincere and brimming with anticipation yet rendered obsolete by the mere absence of touch.  
 
No time to fuck, shower, go to work and pine for each other until the day is done, and we rush back to one another to fuck again some more, in between sneaking in those pesky chores, browsing Netflix, spending time cooking together, and a little more time fucking half clothed in the laundry, hallway, on the kitchen bench with a smidgen more of our time allocated to cleaning up this god forsaken mess.  
 
No time for exploring the wild, in between the fits of laughter, no time for grazing upon one another’s flesh & intellect, are they not a necessity to sustain us, just as sharing more of ourselves during showers, bubble baths & power naps, until we have no more fucks to give as we’ve reached the pinnacle of all things bliss as we translate that sweet spot, and adopt it as our daily groove.  
 
Then we’ll do it all over again just to be sure, and the appetite we share has ripened with time, even though we’re unable to define this thing which nourishes, yet consumes us both like cancer.  
 
Love is madness, so they say.