9 partes Concluida when i wrote enamor, my latest poetry book, it was in a fit of almost rage- it happened in one night, all at once. it felt like vomiting; painful, but healthy in a way. he didn't love me and i didn't know why i loved him. unfair. the word enamor meant to be infatuated with someone, they consume you. for me, it was one sided. unspoken. it's overwhelming, addicting, and a rush. possession and jealousy. before, it was opposites. total opposites, enough to be a list...now? we fall into stride beside each other, compatibility. unity. - i don't have to be jealous cause he has my trust, i have his. - with enamor, i ended in the "confess" stage - where i never quite told him, but i wanted him to know. but with this, i never had to tell him or feel the need to, he just always knew. happiness is a more settled love. we're enamored with each other, it breeds a sort of joy. a contentment. i've taken my time with happiness, cause it doesn't flood out of me in one night. i weave it like a tapestry. i carry it with me on the hard days. he cares for me. in turn, he carries me. i care for him. i'm not just infatuated with someone. but they're infatuated with me. we have each other... that's happiness.
