you know what line from Shakespeare makes me go feral. that one line that’s like “I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes (and also I will go with thee to thy Uncle)” from Much Ado About Nothing because like. that line is objectively really funny because Beatrice is just talking about going with Benedick to have a conversation with her uncle and he’s. being an overdramatic bitch again. but the other thing is that. that line is so unbearably tender. imagine you ask someone to go with you to your uncle’s and they seriously tell you not only do they want to do that but they also want to die in your lap and be buried in your eyes, sort of in a joking tone but also completely meaning it. i cant think about that too long or ill absolutely go insane
you don’t talk too much. you aren’t too loud. you aren’t too needy. you aren’t too sensitive. you aren’t too this, or that. you aren’t too much anything. you will never be too much: you are you, and you are allowed to take up space. you are allowed to exist however you choose.