It's hard to explain how an infatuation actually starts. It's a state so all-encompassing that it's almost impossible to remember how it felt to live inside your own head before it began. Everything that precedes it becomes a pathway that was always leading there. Time before is valuable only as a resource with which to create a persona, to bind the object of the infatuation closer. I had given my (partially fabricated) past life to Mizuko to make a story that in the end never got told. Or not by her. It is also hard to explain the intensity of the infatuation itself. There is rarely an explanation that seems reasonable to anyone but you. Unless you're part of a cult or viral phenomenon, so that when you weep outside the object of your infatuation's hotel room, you do so in the company of millions.
I think there is no difference between love and infatuation. If it works out, we call it love; if it doesn’t, we shrug our shoulders and say it was infatuation. It’s a hindsight word.
Infatuation is like a drug that gives you the best high yet gives you the worst headache after.
Naomi giggled that same giggle with which Enoch had become infatuated.
Dear Dick, I guess it's been a case of infatuation... Mostly this infatuation-energy is about wanting to know someone.... Whereas the sex-infatuations that's male *you, Shake, the priest) leap out of nowhere, based on not knowing them at all. As if sex could provide the missing clues. Can it? In the cases of the males it's like I felt some kind of hint of who that person was floating under the surface. Wanting sex to realise things I knew.
I was doing that thing the infatuated do, stitching destiny onto the person we want stitched to us.
Love is merely a combination between infatuation and confusion.
Where there is asakti [infatuation], there accusations cannot refrain from happening. That is indeed the nature of asakti [infatuation].
Infatuation is not quite the same thing as love it's more like love's shady second cousin who's always borrowing money and can't hold down a job.
Love is not blind. Infatuation is blind. Love is all-seeing and still accepting.