The language of love

Apparently, we’ve been fools thinking that opposites attract whilst in reality it is our shared interests that attract us to one another and make us fall in love. Even though this seems like This got me thinking, whilst “slightly” intoxicated (more emphasis on the latter), in the arms of an Italian passing a beer back and forth, communicating in broken German, whether or not a language barrier would stand in between of attraction. But let’s be honest, I’m too drunk and the Berlinesque techno is drifting away any worry I can possibly overthink on a Saturday night. So I dance the night away and he does the same. We walk back, closely next to one another. He would love to live in the countryside, whilst I love cities. He misses the Italian cuisine, and I fondly remember the Thai kitchen of my travels.

I don’t want him to talk, because I don’t want to overthink his words and he’s good enough to just enjoy looking at. There goes his last touch; his goodbye burns on my cheek. The alcohol in my veins fast forward time and suddenly I’m sat in the S-bahn heading home, alone, spotify on repeat. I can’t help but thinking that I just shared a drink called loneliness, but just like the piano man always sings: it’s better than drinking alone.


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