being loved by you is like diving into the ocean. it’s a limitless, deep feeling. it’s scary but soothing at the same time. it burns on open wounds, but it’s what makes them heal too. it’s a taste that lingers on your lips, so unexpectedly good. you crave deep, intellectual connection. maybe you’re not good with words, expressing your feelings might not come easily for you. it's your actions and attention that let them know, they feel seen and heard. your primary love language is probably acts of service, small little things, like untangling your lover’s jewelry without them asking, that when added up speak volumes. like the impression that the sea gives with its vastness, you also might seem distant, inaccessible; but that’s just the way you are, a little cold, right? your lover probably got scared at the beginning, it had to adapt to it by taking little steps at the time before confidently leaving the shore behind. you crave peace and stillness, because you know how an agitated sea can be frightening even for the most experienced sailors. it looks so quiet but your love can get loud, like the roaring sea. you hate fighting. you’re always scared the waves might get too big, too tall to overcome; that your lover might run away, unable to contain and hold you. you’re not asking to be tamed; just to be trusted, to be stayed with even when the waters rise. you wish nothing but hold them tight and be their lullaby, to rock them as if they were asleep on a floating mattress, gently carried by the waves, drifting slowly towards the center of your heart.
