Was ist Liebe?

Gibt es die wahre Liebe?

Wie liebt man richtig?

Ist Liebe gefährlich?

Die Antworten auf diese Fragen hat Arte Street Philosophy gesucht und gefunden.

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Zahnräder

Wir liegen zusammen im Bett, wie nur Liebende zusammen liegen können. Mein Kopf auf deiner Brust, oder deiner auf meiner, was macht das schon für einen Unterschied. Arme und Beine sind verwoben, Gedanken und Herzschläge mischen sich miteinander.

Ich liege da und wundere mich. Wie einfach es mit dir ist. Wie selbstverständlich. Wie schön. Wie aufregend. Ich kann es kaum erwarten dabei zu sein, um zu erleben, wie das mit uns weiter geht.

Wie gut plötzlich alles zusammen passt und ineinander greift.

Du nimmst meine Hand,

„Ich finde, wir ergänzen uns ziemlich gut.“

verschränkst deine Finger mit meinen.

„So fühlt sich das an. Als würden wir ineinander greifen.“

Du denkst kurz nach.

„Wie zwei Zahnräder.“

 

Falling heart over heels (but slowly)

I am still on my way and where else would I be.
I feel I have arrived somewhere new and can never stop to admire the view.
Like a shark I would suffocate if I ever stopped moving.

And here I am, opening and closing my mouth as if I were. Here I am, shutting up again without saying the words.

There they are, those words.
A while ago I said I was not in love with you. I know what I am with you. I am at ease. I am safe. I am hungry. I am.

I open my mouth and here they are. Those words. Etched into the rim of my tongue.

. . .

I have no idea, no plan, how life with you is supposed to look like. And I do not fret. I do not hesitate and I am not scared.
Everything is going to be just right.

I . . .

Do you know, that I have been looking for you?
You are the one that allows himself to feel the world and you are not scared.
You are the one with the silly laughs.
You are the one with the stupid comments.
You are the one that sees without judging.

I have it at the tip of my fingers, feel it between my teeth, catch it in my breath, when I look into your eyes.

. . .

All of this is so sudden.
I am not ready to trust again.

I do trust you.
But I do not trust myself.
I am afraid.

 I might just be using you
to get away from all this shit 
with him –  No, I will have no more of that.

You are just who you claim to be.
You are just who I believe you to be.

There are no heart-shaped glasses.

I…

I see you
complex and imperfect
as you are.

So why do I feel I need more time
when all I want is to spend more time with you?

I am scared shitless.

Do I really dare to love you, when all of this could just be another hallucination my fucked up brain creates to make me feel like peace existed?

I want to feel everything with all my heart as if I had forgotten how to be afraid.