100 Words on Love, by Oliver Lee Bateman
Love at 18, your teenage self thinks, is nothing more than the desire to be desired by people who have no choice but to deem you undesirable. Poems, pleadings, and other romantic comedy behaviors won’t make a nickel’s worth of difference. Eventually all of those individuals depart for bigger and better things and love is revealed as the leftovers, the friends and family who *never left*. This love is a pleasant and rambling conversation that you can pick up wherever it ended, a feeling you can trust because it’s there whenever you need it.
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