Love

I don't know if what I feel is love.

We decided to skip this week. Fucking like we do gets a little routine and lack lustre if it's on a clock. I was done for a while, I didn't feel the need to visit our bubble, and, as it happens, neither did he.

I was feeling done with us and our bubble the way it is/was. It had reached an evolve or die kinda spot.

And now that I know we both are good and don't feel the desire to visit, I feel endearment to us.

It feels again a little bit like a tender love - even though it is based on fucking. Is that love?

If it is, it's a little exhausting. So much blooming. Ugh.