How do I perceive that love holds me? When do I understand it? When do I comprehend it? Have I abandoned myself to her and kept nothing, or is my abandonment to her my truly finding my very self?

When I am conscious of the love that I feel, I feel an addictive pain that pleasures my soul. When I look into her eyes and see a kindred spirit, a soul that lives and breathes and has being with me, a soul that loves me, a soul that gives herself to me, I cannot help but be drawn to the fire that ignites. When I see her laugh, I laugh. When I see her cry, my soul wails. When I see her passion for the future, I am filled with ambition to be who she deserves to be with. She both holds my heart in her hands and is held by me in mine.

How to speak without passion igniting? How to analyse my thoughts? Can I collect myself when I am in her hands? Can I separate from me my addiction to love?

Love demands abandonment even unto death. Love demands a giving of my self, a giving of my all. I fear death yet am drawn to love; I fear giving my all in death but long for it in love. I am pulled between these two poles, fearing life and fearing death. I must throw myself in both realities with all that I have. I must throw myself in love, for life. I must throw myself into death, a finality that gives meanings to my life.