Hopeless Passionate

Throughout my teenage life, each year I've grown more and more passionate and love-struck. It could be hormones, it could be plain craving for affection, it could be a thousand things.

It happens occasionally. Sometimes more often than others, I will fantasize about one of my ex-girlfriends, or imagine passionate moments with someone I might eventually have a crush on.

I might imagine a lengthy, romantic kiss. A long night in the dark of a room, filled with passionate breathing, warmth and sounds characteristic to a well-spent night.

I might imagine a rougher scene, where less love and more lust are present. Or a touching moment, where honest, loving, tender words precede long-awaited affection and cuddling.

Sometimes even a simple making up with someone in an imaginary situation can fill my mind for minutes unknown, dreaming of an argue that could have ended with a loving kiss and a blissful afternoon, rather than with a hot-headed decision that I would come to greatly regret.

Although my heart has been broken a few times, I've yet to tire of loving. I've yet to tire of passion-filled moments with a loved one. I've yet to tire of seeking someone who will love me right, and who I will make happy.

I've yet to become fatigued by this close to incessant search for a loving, passionate, honest and respectful relationship. And hence, I can't help but smile at the nothingness in space as I imagine how wonderful it would be to spend nights awake, falling asleep barely before dawn, in the warmth of my lover. To help her make dinner, go to the movies or watch one at home, have fun together, game together, laugh, play, hang out, make love, make love, make love.

And yet I let things be as they are, for the sake of my well-being. Life will bring me the right person. It always does. All I can do is enjoy the moment, but, I don't think I can deny.

I am passionate, and I am hopeless.
AnimaAeterna AnimaAeterna
18-21, M
Jan 14, 2013