Dear Heart,
Cocoa & Comfort
I read somewhere today that "love, it is mad and holy, like Dostoevsky." I feel like I am travelling the same road. I feel madness and holiness both at the same time. Writing to you out of frenzied emotion and devoting my entire being to you as though you are sacrosanct.
Reading White Nights years back makes sense to me now. The dreamer was perhaps loving in his subconsciousness, no reality of Nastenka existed but his love was purer than the pure, and the heartbreak was born from loving something that could never fully belong to him.
Tasting the warmth of cocoa reminds me the warmth your sweetest soul always extended towards me. I consecrate my heart to you, I worship you with the whole of my being, and write to you like it is scared.
I have often heard that love itself is a religion; I am experiencing it. If love is a religion, then perhaps I have found my faith in you, and I do not know how to stop believing.
~Zara M.
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