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attempting to write this on love feels like writing about god. something that i don't know anything about, that i'm not sure even exists in the way we think it exists. i don't know if love is so perfect.

see, all i know is lust and admiration. purely physical or merely connections made up in my head.

i'm giving up on controlling. there will always be something else to conquer it seems. i want something equal, honest, true.

it's love.

but at the same time, i want this with too many.

and i don't know how to be a writer if i'm not feeling pain.