shipping is like second hand falling in love.
you don’t fall in love with their soft cheeks, you fall in love with how that person looks when they touch that other person’s soft cheeks. you don’t fall in love with their eye colour, you fall in love with them knowing it about each other. it’s not their thighs that make you go crazy, it’s imagining that person admiring those thighs. you don’t cry because they don’t love you, you cry because the pain you imagine they’re going through hurts you too. the butterflies having fun at a rollercoaster in your tummy are from the eye contact between those two people on your screen.
you fall in love; not with people, but with the idea of their love for each other.
















