Kabutomushi

Being in love here is like having a fever: sometimes it makes you hot, sometimes it burns your fingertips with cold. Everything is too much: the smell, the voice, the fluttering of eyelashes, even the breath. The world turns into a carousel, where the white mane of a horse slowly floats by, and the heart stumbles over its own rhythm.

And in this dizziness, it is so easy to believe that pain and happiness are not opposites, but the same feeling, just with different intonations. Memories will ache like the first frost after a warm summer, but it is in them that the trace of true intimacy is preserved. Even if everything goes away, it will never be forgotten.