Limerence

The Intensity of Limerence and the Rollercoaster of Desire

There’s something consuming about this feeling—infatuation, deep emotion, and genuine intent all wrapped up in a powerful, almost uncontrollable longing. It's as if every part of me is magnetically pulled towards him, craving that connection, that human interaction—the touch that feels almost out of reach. I’m not talking about the simple, everyday touch, but the kind that awakens something deep inside you, like the memory of a sweet, unique scent that instantly takes you back to moments shared. Does he even know he’s done this to me? Has he even noticed that he stole my heart without even trying?

Limerence. That’s what they call it, isn’t it? The infatuated state, the beginning of real love. I’ve never felt anything like this before. Sure, I’ve had crushes, feelings for boys back then, but this? This is something else. Something deep. Something genuine. Yet, it feels unreciprocated, as if this person doesn’t even want me the way I want him. I try to move on, to cut the emotional ties, but he keeps coming back for more. We dance on the edge—he tries to contain his feelings, while I hide mine, but neither of us can escape it.

And then, there’s his voice, calling my name. Not just my full name, but the shortened version—my name as a password, a signal of intimacy, and it sounds like heaven. His beauty, his brilliance, his energy—everything about him has me hanging onto every word, every moment of contact. Maybe I’m going through a midlife crisis, but how could I not feel this way? The way his love lingers on me, tantalizing my every thought, my every step.

It’s almost like an addiction. I crave his attention, yet every time I get a taste, I feel like I’m dropped without warning, left hanging. But I always go back. Why? Because I’m hooked. This rollercoaster ride of emotions, the obsessive desire to be close to him, to feel him, is intoxicating. This is limerence in its rawest form. The highs and lows, the euphoric thoughts in my mind, the imaginations of kisses, breath, hands, touch—a celestial connection.

But I know it’s dangerous. It feels intense, almost like I’m teetering on the edge of obsession, and the further I fall into this, the more it becomes a part of my very existence. My intuition is screaming, my mind racing with thoughts of him. There’s this telepathic link between us, and it’s getting harder to break free.

Lord save me from this overwhelming desire, from this impossible love that might never be. But for now, I’m in it—feeling every bit of it, knowing that even though I might never have his love the way I want, I can’t help but live in this moment of intensity.

G xxx