Infatuation and love. The fine thread that once greatly differentiated these two representations of harboured feelings for another. They are man-made terms signifying dissimilarity in the distillation of affections.

Infatuation versus love.

When we talk about being in love more than constantly, we conceive a collaged mental vision picture from past experiences of or an aspiration of feeling good for and toward another; when the butterflies in our tummies fly to our hearts and heads, when emotions drive the better of us and chains us to becoming miserably unconditional, when doing what's best for the other is to let go, the first time cloud nine rocked to heavens high when the one you've been crushing on all year round reciprocates the virgin striking return of attraction, when sex becomes the most beautiful sculpt of intimacy (and when sex stops being deemed as love-making but instead an urge), when her hair is a classic bad hair 80s day and you think she's beautiful, when caring scars your life because it is at the expense of your usual living normalities, how is it possible to actually classify love and infatuation when either of the latter feels as stereotyped as love?

Which of the two has a stronger power of emotions?

Sometimes I think I'm madly infatuated with you, other times I'm on a scale showing eleven out of ten that this is love learning in its most unconditional form. At the end of every silly night, I know it's not love. But this thing we have that's not love, we just may have to add a "yet".

So this is what I'm saying to you. I don't love you yet, yet I know I'll grow to love you. All in time, all in good time. The best things in life must never be rushed.