Once a week I check out the posts on LeLove.  Today there was a post that made me think, "did I send this in?!"  I know that slowly I am doing better, and I don't feel the same highs and lows that I felt a couple of months ago. I know the progress is there, and I'm looking forward to the resolution of the situation. 

Since I've started school, I've had a lot less time to look at other blogs, but I always find myself checking out Le Love. Is there comfort knowing that some anonymous someone feels the same way you do? Click here for the entry.

Isn't it strange when you realize that someone else feels the same way you do? To know that perhaps, as alone as you may feel, someone else's heart is breaking too?

"We are just friends. Several times now, I have fallen asleep intertwined with you. Cheek to cheek, even lip to lip--just feeling your breath on my skin. We go no further. Today we went for a walk after a summer pour, and I could feel the warm steam rising from the streets. Now tonight, I sleep alone. It's probably healthy because when I'm tangled up with you I can hardly sleep at all. I spend the whole night on fire, quietly smoldering most of the time. Except when you pull me closer and rub your soft scruffle up and down my neck and chest. Or when you grab me by the hip bone and sink your thumbs into my flesh, sending electric chills up and down my body.Or when you pull me into you, sliding your fingers down my spine until they press the small of my back (chills, again). Or when your lips find the back of my neck and you mumble about how good I smell. Those are the times that the smoldering gives way to a blazing flare and all I can do is hope for a nap the next day.

But not tonight. You're there and I'm here. I could never tell you this, but every night your body isn't pressed against mine, I have to pack pillows around myself just to fall asleep. But we are just friends, and I'm sure you sleep fine without me." - A

{via Le Love}

Go check the whole Melting Words series from Kotama Bouabane here. And contrary to the past two posts, I'm not cynical about love (at least not this week). I'm especially a fan of "I'm not mad," a classic disgruntled girlfriend but pretending nothing is amiss phrase.

métro

According to the photographer, "I am sure it is only my imagination, but the story my imagination has written makes them a couple who share a resentment of the other which causes their frowns and makes their sleep a little more restive than yours or mine." It's definitely possible. What do you think? The best-the title: How Many Years Have I Hated You?

{via Flickr theXenon}