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I like riding the bus alone, and walking home alone.

It gives me time to think, and set my mind free.

I like eating alone, and listening to music alone.

But when I see a mother with her child;

A girl with her lover;

Or a friend laughing with their best friend;

I realize that even though I like being alone

I wish the world were ending tomorrow. Then I could take the next train, arrive at your doorstep in Vienna, and say: “Come with me, Milena. We are going to love each other without scruples or fear or restraint. Because the world is ending tomorrow.” Perhaps we don’t love unreasonably because we think we have time, or have to reckon with time. But what if we don't have time? Or what if time, as we know it, is irrelevant? Ah, if only the world were ending tomorrow. We could help each other very much.

Five thousand years ago, the Sumerians called the night ngi, the stars mul, and the moon Nanna.

Four thousand years ago, the Akkadians called the night mūšu, the stars kakkabū, and the moon Sîn.

Three thousand years ago, the Hittites called the night išpanza, the stars haštereš, and the moon Arma.

Two and a half thousand years ago, the Greeks called the night nux, the stars astra, and the moon Selênê.

Two thousand years ago, the Romans called the night nox, the stars stellae, and the moon Luna.

Kings and queens and heroes looked up at them. So did travelers coming home, and little children who sneaked out of bed. So did slaves, and mothers and soldiers and old shepherds, and Sappho and Muršili and Enheduanna and Socrates and Hatshepsut and Cyrus and Cicero. In this darkness it didn’t matter who they were, or where they stood. Only that they were human.

Think of that tonight, when you close your window. You are not alone. You share this night sky with centuries of dreamers and stargazers, and people who longed for quiet. Are you anxious? The Hittites were too: they called it pittuliyaš. Does your heart ache? The Greeks felt it too: they called it akhos. Those who look up to the stars for comfort are a family, and you belong to them. Your ancestors have stood under Nanna, Sîn, Arma, Selênê and Luna for five thousand years. Now its light is yours.

they all have the same desire, they all desire for someone to Want it, for love to not be an accident or something that happens without recognising it, they all have the overtones desire of wanting someone to deem you worthy of love, to see you and meet you and know you and Want to love you, to make that choice and stick by it because loving you or being loved by you is something so deeply worth it and fulfilling and moving and powerful that they Want it, in their soul they crave to love and be loved

they're such varieties of the basic desire to be wanted

they say these things and they mean "love me because i am lovable" not "love me because you find me desirable/you have realised you already do/you want something from me" etc

it's "love me because i am me and you are aware of that" and it's something you can just scream to someone when you can't find another way to say "i am choosing to love you because loving you is something i want to experience no matter the outcome"