All letters of love are
They wouldn’t be love letters if they were not
— Fernando Pessoa
Still so very true, unfortunately. You may disagree, but… Eros love, in a way, is very ridiculous, no matter how beautiful it can be, or what fantastic (or ridiculous!) things it can make us write. It is infamous, and usually very short lived if you don’t take care of it.
Love turns into obsession. It can turn into indifference. Maybe… A blessing? Love is such a chameleon.
I wouldn’t exactly say that I like to write about love, or write long texts discussing my unrequited feelings, etc. In the end, when I reread them, I usually feel like they’re embarrassing, or ridiculous to be more exact.
Yet, they show a real moment of my history — which will be forgotten in time someday! — and that is a reason valid enough not to hate them.
Who can tame hearts? Hearts can’t be tamed.
We love, we crave love, and when we get it, what do we do? Water it daily?
Let it get rusty and useless? Forget about it until it fades away?
I wish I wasn’t such a romantic. I am a romantic, I confess. I’m one of those hopeless romantics. One of the fools.
That probably means that I’m also very ridiculous.
Pessoa’s poem in Portuguese is fantastic. He’s always so pessimistically wise.