Love is kinda like a balloon. Hear me out,
You have a little shitty plastic thing that has holes in it.
You tell someone it can fly, and they don’t believe you. No one does.
Over time you find someone you really like and they really like you.
They also believe that plastic with holes in it can fly.
You work together to fix all but one of the holes.
Now blowing into it, and holding that one exit as a team, the balloon holds air.
Everyone else watches in awe wondering how it worked.
The two people get it, no one else would.
And that is ok.
What will they do with it?
Hey now, that is their choice. Respect.