Zhifa
A passionate young soon-to-be medical doctor with interest in writing and #HealthForAll

Intoxicating Infatuation


What gave it away? you asked.
Your eyes. That's what gave it away.


The bookshop was a little crowded that day, but it was still nice, with people hovered above the books they were curious to read, little kids took their time to explore the book with the brightest cover for them to go home with, parents looked for books for their kids, and the smell of lemon... fresh! I made my way out after purchasing 2 books with foreign author names. 

My new hobby is exploring the words of foreign authors, and no, I do not google them before buying their books. I simply buy the books with impulse. Whether I'm going to like it or hate it or feel nothing about it is a future business, what matters most is I get to surf on the beauty of the words, of the languages. Also, I'm going to learn a new language this year... I've started though, via Duolingo. Bless that app. And of course, pocket dictionary, because the internet isn't always good in my flat. Anyhow, having pocket dictionaries feel nice, like, "today I'm going to be a Señorita, therefore I shall bring this Spanish dictionary in my pocket as a reminder for the day, that I am a Señorita." they also don't get you easily distracted, unlike phones...

As I'm reading this book, I came across, "intoxicating infatuation" and can't help thinking how, until this age, 22 years old, I haven't experienced it. Sure, I have liked men before, I might or might have not been in love with one of them, but never have I ever felt the intoxicating amount of love, and lust, or even an infatuation. I feel like I'm missing out, really. All I have experienced is just within the normal range of ...almost love. Which is... too ordinary and kind of sad, I think.

I get it, that even the extraordinary is ordinary when you're talking about love stories because people always claim that theirs is the extraordinary one, or the most special one, or the only love story that matters. But even in my short time living, having something extraordinary of a love story to me seems futile. But maybe I'm only saying this because I haven't met the one who will fill my stomach with butterflies, legs feel like spaghetti, and heart so full of love it might as well explode.

We will see. 

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