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<strong>Lust</strong>: A very strong desire; a craving.
<strong>Love</strong>: An intense feeling of deep affection
October 28th, 2012
I grew up in poverty. But I don’t think I knew that at the tender age of 8. Hell, I don’t think I figured it out until now. I remember every weekend, my mother would give my brother and I twenty dollars. We’d walk what felt like a million years to the toy store, and end up flying back in about 5 seconds. I’d never felt a desire like the one for a new toy. I’d spend that entire evening in awe. For the rest of the week I’d rush home from school, only after spending my morning sharing the news of the previous nights’ discovery, my newfound passion with whoever cared to listen. It was like that with the Barbie convertible… and the Easy Bake oven… The Cabbage Patch Kid...
The list goes on.
However, these continuous sparks of obsession didn’t end with toys. I had a lust for novels, art, friendships, and for pretty pink notebooks with hearts on the cover. I even remember math problems and English assignments captivating my mind like no other (for however long that moment lasted.) I held a strong desire to understand, to be affected, but most importantly to feel apart of something.
My best friend for the season had asked how was it that I managed to fall in love all over again, every day. It was one of those questions that felt more like a statement. Confused at what seemed to be a ridiculous assumption, I replied
“I’ve never been in love.”
I was as ignorant to love as I was to my mothers’ bank account. I had never experienced a lust for love (nor did I think it was possible.)
Four years later I met Christopher Maurice Brown.</cite>