Sternberg’s Love Theory
The triangular theory of love is a theory of love developed by psychologist Robert Sternberg. In the context of interpersonal relationships, ‘the three components of love, according to the triangular theory, are an intimacy component, a passion component, and a decision/commitment component’.
Intimacy – Which encompasses feelings of attachment, closeness, connectedness, and bondedness.
Passion – Which encompasses drives connected to both limerence and sexual attraction.
Commitment – Which encompasses, in the short term, the decision to remain with another, and in the long term, the shared achievements and plans made with that other.
I want to kiss her.
Not because I want to feel the softness of her fair lips or the warmth of her breath as she exhales against me.
I want to kiss her because I can’t think of any other way to fully express the beauty that she is. I want her to know that I see her as perfect. That she is perfect.
i was once wrought with pity, pity for myself for being so erratic and unpredictable. & it appeared as if the the only things that were predictable about me were my destructive habits/behavior and the mess of feelings i always left behind. i lacked accountability and guidance, being prone to failure wreaked havoc on my self esteem. i knew i needed to mature. i always pictured being mature as being steady like the ebb and flow of the ocean’s tides. i began to long for it. i thought it was something that i would not be able to support myself without, but with you i am beginning to realize maybe it wasn’t about this at all. & i’m not talking about giving up on maturing, in fact you give me even more reason to relentlessly chase after what i want to become. growing to become a mature, functioning person seems to be an incredibly difficult task, but it doesn’t seem nearly as impossible anymore. because now i know someone that i honestly can’t go without unless i got to at least say good night to her. even if she doesn’t see it until she wakes up.
but i’ve been through this before, with each occasion ending on a bitter note. i tried to learn something from every mistake, but i knew that we both lost much more than what we had came with. i had horrible image issues and i really couldn’t grow to trust any girl that i was with. no matter how well things went in the beginning, i’d eventually sink into this paranoid panic and sever ties before they got too attached. i hated that about myself. i honestly thought it was something i could work on my own, so i spent the last couple of years discerning real clear goals and ways to achieve them. deciding that for myself was a big step forward, and i thought i was doing well. until i met you and realized that maybe i could have used some help all along. you know, communication was never my strong point in the past. so when that same old panic began to step in, i was worried that i would fuck things up again. but i swear when you tell me “i know” it feels as if i was justified in believing in us. which i do, so i can’t wait to make this work. the doubts and fears aren’t going to go awake, but honestly i feel like if i could at least talk to you about them i’d be able to fight past such insecurities.
a girl’s feet will tangle yours under sheets you just bought for a night like this. the price tag is still glued to the plastic wrapping stuffed underneath the bed. her feet are frigid and feel like frostbite against your legs when you fall asleep, but they’re like mittens roasted over a fire when the sun blinks through the curtains.
a girl’s legs are taut and thick. they’re flexible and enclose you in a straightjacket at 2 am when they knot around your waist and pull you just a little closer. if she’s still sleeping, it’s even better.
her thighs will make you forget about your calculus homework and your french exam. they will make you forget about your father’s affair or your best friend’s disorders. they will make you forget your name and they will make you forget who you are without them. hold them as tight as you can. i promise, she loves it.
when you were in fourth grade, they taught you stop, drop, and roll at the sign of a fire. when you’re in her bedroom on the second floor, her quivering hips will trick-start a similar fire in your teeth, and you’re going to want to listen to your fourth grade teacher, but don’t. if you stop, whatever it may be that you’re doing, she might kill you.
so in health class, they’re supposed to teach you that your hands will never fit somewhere like they will on a girl’s waist. it doesn’t matter if it’s wide and soft, or small and hard. your hands will adapt to her waist like the heart to your blood. they’ll feel as natural as fingers on an instrument.
sometimes you can see her ribs; sometimes you can’t. they flicker like an old grainy movie under her skin, and they feel like sharp magma in your palms. they’re structure — they protect her. hold her there if you want her to feel like this house isn’t caving in on herself.
her chest. promise her you’d never want anything more or anything less. if you don’t mean it, stop reading, and find someone else.
taste her collarbone. dip in the crevices and valleys and plant trees at the bottom. root down, cherish the nature, and never ever underestimate a girl’s collarbones. they’re a place to sleep when its -11 outside. write scripts on her collarbone. they are forever.
if you don’t know blueprints to her neck with your eyes closed from tracing it with your mouth, you’re doing it wrong. learn it. memorize it. you better know her pulse like counting with your dominant hand. kiss it like it’s her mouth. her neck will change over time, yes. but make sure you can change with it.
kiss her before she brushes her teeth. make fun of her morning breath. kiss her after, and make fun of the flavor of her toothpaste. kiss her when she’s angry and throwing the vase your mother bought her, and kiss her when she can’t stand and she bubbles over with tears like hot water. kiss her if she’s laughing and tell her it’s because she makes you happy. kiss her if she won’t stop talking because you want to taste her voice. kiss her when she isn’t talking because you miss it. kiss her in the shower and kiss her everywhere. if it’s raining, kiss her, and kiss her again when she calls you a cliche. kiss her in public because you want them all to know, and kiss her in private because you don’t need them to either. god, just kiss her on the mouth. nothing else matters. just fucking kiss her.
just by the change
of tone in your
be with someone
who loves the
you hate the most
fall inlove with
looks at you and
knows they don’t
want anyone else
he can easily get w other girls around him but i dont have the same options here in terms of males nor do i want anyone anyway. i wish shit was equal and that we were both in the same boat. but instead everything is in his favor and hes “winning” on all fronts. i have no one here