ykw? Ive realised, love, or what I call âlove,â arrives like an unexpected houseguest. It crashes in, uninvited, leaving me breathless and scrambling to accommodate it. And so, I play the perfect host, hanging on every word, enchanted by every quirk, rearranging my entire existence to suit it. I pretend not to be bothered by the disorder this causes, I do my best to feign interest in every little detail, every seemingly insignificant movement as if its somehow important. His laugh, her smile, the way they hold their coffee cup, each quirk, every little nuance, becomes a fascination. I rearrange my life for them, shuffling my priorities like a deck of cards, pretending that this moment, is worth the utter upheaval of my being.















