it’s so difficult loving chris pine because at any given moment you have no idea what form that love is going to take
- embarrassed delight?
- aroused outrage?
- fiercely overprotective hunger?
- charmed fury?
- the overwhelming need to be besties and talk until 4am about how much high school sucked in front of one of his two fucking fireplaces?
- an unbearable urge to crawl inside of him and wear him like a devastatingly handsome hipster nerdbaby meatsuit?
- denial and isolation
- all five stages of grief simultaneously expressed via yowling noises