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How to Love Any Sign of the Zodiac

All relationships undergo the honeymoon stage, but what happens when “the getting to know” part of the relationship ends and you enter the comfort zone. How do you love overwhelmingly passionate signs like Aries and Leo? What about super affectionate Taurus and playful Gemini?

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ART PRINTS BY WITCHORIA

Daydreaming.

I found you dreaming.

Just Breathe

Still

It’s Raining Zen

Insomnia

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curiouslychanging

I like to fancy souls as being made out of light. And some are all shot through with rosy stains and quivers…and some have a soft glitter like moonlight on the sea…and some are pale and transparent like mist at dawn.

L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Avonlea (via combemagna)

wordsnquotes

Love someone who is kinder to you than you are to yourself.

Nikita Gill, Things I Wish I Had Learned Sooner (via majesty)

nalgaemoji-deactivated20170326

A woman with a moon falling from her mouth, roses between her legs and tiaras of Spanish moss, this woman is a consort of the spirits.

Ntozake Shange, from Sassafrass, Cypress and Indigo (St. Martin’s Press, 1982)

total-art-forever

The Great Day of His Wrath, Martin (1851 - 1853) | A Knife In The Ocean, Foals (2015)

amanda-oaks

Heart, feral. Heart always getting carried away. Heart, delirious. Heart, blotto. Heart always out of its fuckin’ mind. Heart on a two-week bender too sad to stop. Heart on blast. Heart always on blast. Heart full of screws, all loose. Heart full of love, all spent. Heart, tight. Heart, packed suitcase. Heart, standing room only. Heart watches the room hold its breath, hold in its gut, hold it all. Heart a beast with too many teeth, all bite & tongue sharp. Heart, gorge. Heart, canyon. Heart cram it all in its mouth. Heart birdcage & coffin. Heart hollow out everything that loves it. Heart take & take & take until it’s too full to beat. Heart love until there is no love left.

Bullet With Butterfly Wings ✮ Amanda Oaks, published in decomP magazine (with audio)

fyp-psychology

limerence

(noun) Psychology | Coined by psychologist Dorothy Tennov, limerence is loosely defined as a compulsive level of infatuation. In this state, the mind emotionally and physically projects romantic thoughts and desires to form or maintain a relationship with a particular person. It’s a sense of lovesickness, portrayed by the latter symptoms: the idealization of another person, extreme shyness or nervousness around the beloved, a fear or rejection, which can drive one to despair, intensely analyzing every word said by the one they crave, experiencing physical symptoms when around this person, such as sweaty palms, heart palpitations and other senses of euphoria when their presence is recognized by the one they desire. (via fyp-psychology)

writingsforwinter

for twenty-year-olds who have never been loved

All of a sudden two decades have passed and you still have not kissed anyone with tongue, or kissed anyone at all for that matter, or had a 3 AM conversation with someone who would rather look into your eyes for ten minutes straight than talk. You have never worn a lover’s sweater or “forgotten” it at home in your bedroom just so you would have an excuse to see them again. You have never even stood face-to-face with someone who makes your hands shake so hard it feels like they’re both having a separate anxiety attack.

This causes you much guilt and self-blame and sadness but above all, an overwhelming curiosity. Are you really that ugly, that unwanted, that uninteresting, that boring, that no one, absolutely no one, has ever looked at you like the only thing on earth?

The answer is no. The better answer is that someone out there, somewhere in the world, is “wondering what it’s like to meet someone like you,” and they have two decades worth of love stored in their veins like a shoot-‘em-up drug, and they’re just about ready to inject it into someone else’s bloodstream. All you have to do is roll up your sleeves and wait for it to happen.

At times you felt so lonely you could stand at the edge of a cliff with nothing beneath you but air and grass and a long, long way down, and you’d still feel emptier than that canyon itself. Maybe you even danced with yourself alone in your room a few times, arms outstretched around a ghost, pretending someone else’s hands were on your waist, someone else’s eyes boring into yours.

Or maybe you fell temporarily in love with strangers on public transportation, fell in love with anybody who so much as accidentally brushed your hand on the way past. For you, falling in love with dozens of people a day was a coping mechanism for not having anyone to love you in return. But people are not eggs and falling in love with a dozen of them does not mean your shell will remain uncracked. One day you’re going to hit the point where you’re so desperate for human contact that you’re going to snap in half and all your love will bleed out like egg yolk.

But someone out there is eating a bowl of Ramen noodles right now, or putting on slippers, or settling into bed. They are doing all the normal things that you’ve done in your own life. They are just like you. They have cellulite and extra fat in all the wrong places and goals and fears and doubts and bad handwriting.

The truth is that they are just like you, and being just like you, they’re looking for a lover too. They’re what you might call a soulmate.

They think they’re all alone in feeling the way they do, but you’re really both two halves of a whole.

And one day you’ll meet them, bump into them on the street, and your two halves will be put together, and you’ll make one.