It feels like a mix of adrenaline and joy and excitement at its best but also pure jealousy anxiety and nausea at its worst it feels like the person is perfect and their flaws you see as quirks

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Like someone else is carrying around a precious, precious sentimental treasure of yours with them all the time. Because they are. Thats the double edged sword of being in love. You surrender power to that person; you put all your hope and wonder and happiness in a joint bank account that they’re a signer on. What they do with your love is the measure of who they are. If you don’t feel like part of you is with someone, it’s not being in love.

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