Mood after Italy

You let him come to Italy. Live dangerously, you call it. Live cautiously is not to let him come. Majestic him. Whom you know you cannot resist.
The experience was vertiginous. When you live the ups you have to be ready for the downs. Who wants rain must expect the muds. You were ready. Or at least you think you are ready. Ready for the downs, the moment you kiss goodbye at the station. When you only want romance, that is what you get. The slow and irregular heartbeats when he walks away. You take the last train. Outside the night is falling. The rain drops stick on the window and slowly disapear, just like the memories of your day spent with him.
The next day you get these symptoms of those who are in love. Are you too? The question is irrelevant. You should have things under control. Vulnerability is not part of your vocabulary.
The next day the symptoms are acute. You think of him the moment you open your eyes in the morning. His smile. His strong arms. His blue eyes when he looks at you. You hardly eat. You live out of memories. Your heart feels weak. Your brain functions half of its capacity.
You embrace the symptoms. If truly you are in love, then it is a gift. But you doubt the symptoms will last. You hope somehow they will last. For once, you let your guard down.
You think love is a decision. Rationality. There is nothing more powerful than your brain. How long are you going to let him stay in your heart. Some will say that it is not love if you can control.
The second day you still feel dizzy but the memories of his smiling eyes fade away already a little bit. But the feeling of him is still very present. Now you are tipsy when you think of him. And it is nothing in comparison to the moment you went to the bar to meet him in Italy, that moment you feel like you have swallowed a bottle of wine all by yourself.
You dont know how to fall in love and how to be with someone. You only feel. Your five senses tell you what love is. Love is science fiction. Love is alien for you. Yet the symptoms of love are earthy for you. Even in the landing you can feel them.

Whether you like it or not…


The most amazing thing of all existing things is him. No matter how far I want to get away from him. No matter how close to him I want to come back.

What can I say?

There are people who don’t need to do anything to change your life. Their existence only already means the whole world to you. Whether you like it or not. You spend time with them and the next day you wake up, realizing that the rest of your life will be only days of boredom without them. You have some difficulties to understand whether it is a good thing or a bad thing to be under that much influence. Whether you are scared or not, you cannot run away from this fact. You can shut down your mind for a moment, you decide not to think of them for a while, you can do whatever you want, you just cannot escape.

You look out of the window, the buildings usually obstructing the view disappear under your eyes and make room for a beautiful sky. What do they have these people ? What do they give? What do they have that make them that special? Are they even aware of their power ? The times you spend with them become the most memorable times in your life. The music you listen to with them become the most meaningful music ever. Whether you like or not. There is nothing you can do about that. Something just pushes you to go to the edge. You just need to get there. With them in your mind. Whether you like it or not, you experience from heaven to hell one minute from another. You know that you have reached your limits and the point of no return. But you cannot do anything about that. The love for them that you carry with you becomes part of you, like oxygen. You don’t survive if you quit. You don’t survive if you give up. You pray you will never get hurt.

You look out of the window. You wish you could forget them. Fall out of love. At the same time, you wish there could be a thousand more of people like them, to brighten the world. And that kind of contradiction keeps you moving everyday. Good days you smile with that idea. Bad days you accept the fact. Bearing them as bearing life. Light and heavy. Great and tough. Yet essential.

And then it becomes accessory to me…

photo5“Perhaps it is true that we do not really exist until there is someone there to see us existing, we cannot properly speak until there is someone who can understand what we are saying in essence, we are not wholly alive until we are loved.” (On Love – Alain de Botton)

We don’t live expecting life to be perfect. We live with nice small moments walking us through life. I say this knowing perfectly life would be in another dimension with you in it. Yet I don’t expect you in it.

I don’t know why but I never believe in theories on love. I don’t see the suffering in love. I don’t see the need to be loved to exist.

I don’t underestimate anything or any possibility with you in it. I just don’t exist through you. I am on my own to love you, in free will and complete discernment.

Yesterday, when I walked home after work, when all the streets around me were covered with snow, when the whole area was just magically beautiful, when there was no sound except the one of my favorite track playing on my Ipod, I felt so blissful. I knew that it was because I love you more than anything else but that love, as powerful as it can be, suddenly becomes accessory to my life.

The whole contradiction is clearer than ever, I love you but I would never need you, either to love me back or to be there. I felt calm. I did not feel pain. I haven’t felt pain for months now.

The love is real. But the need of you being here becomes abstract. I think I will love you, always. But you are not my priority anymore.

I will be there if you once need me. I will be your friend, whatever. But I truly don’t need you to exist or to survive. And I am thankful for that state of mind.


In Tulum I have learned to miss you less

photo-58Last week I was in Tulum, Mexico. I touched base with nature and earth. Only me, the infinitely desert beaches and some palm trees. Mornings arrive early in Tulum. At five in the morning, I already found myself lost in the blue sky, barefoot in the sand, following the curves of the horizon, listening to my usual music. Then, nights come early in Tulum. At eight in the evening, there were only me and the sound of waves.

In Tulum, I have learned to live with an empty mind and simplicity. Simplicity in my heart, simplicity in my smiles to the warmhearted people around me. I have learned to live in the dark of the night, with no electricity in my bungalow. I fell asleep sometimes thinking of you and surprisingly, most of the time not.

In this simple life my soul has found peace, more than usual. In this simple life, I have learned to not miss you. Not to be obsessed by your absence.

In Tulum of quietness, I have learned to miss you less in order to love you more. Like the waves, these feelings of missing you came abruptly, hit me strongly then go away as quickly as they could. Somehow predictable like when I was standing at the beach and waiting for the waves to come and get me. I swallowed these waves or they swallowed me. I did not know. The difference did not matter. Then again, things came back to normal. Calm and quiet. Like the mornings. Like the nights in I have learned to write to you less than usual.

I have learned to miss you less than usual.

I was renewed.

In Tulum.

In order to love you more

Back here at


Early this morning I did what I had never done before. I started to read again my first post of this blog. “His ears” – I went back to the past for a long moment. I was not surprised by the feelings carried in the post. The immensity of my love for him. The deep and sincere love for him. It was so powerful and sincere that I almost fainted while I read the piece. How can/could I love that much? Loving that much just empties you all inside. But I don’t feel empty at all. I feel lucky somehow. So many things had happened in between. Between this first post and all the other ones in my blog. However the power of that love just stands out among all other things.

I don’t know what I am feeling right now. The question is not if I still feel that love. The answer is in the fact that I had once felt it so strongly. How can/could it be possible? That is the question for today. It is not scary. It is just a wonderful feeling. There has nothing to do with him, where he is/was, who he is/was. It is just me and myself and that immense love, once being out there for this person. It came to me that way. When I read “His ears”, I have lived each sensation of that love, again. No words were exaggerated. I just love/loved that person so much.

Yes, the question is: “How could it be possible?”

There are/were so many possibilities, so many opportunities, so many aspects in everything. How could it be possible that a love of this kind exists/existed/lasts/lasted?


One recurrent question comes up each time in conversations I have with friends, they always ask me: “WHAT DO YOU WANT?”. In terms of relationships or love.

For the last three years, I have always answered: “I don’t know what I want.”

It never seems important to me what I want. How can I know? Things change, I change, people change. The idea of having to define and to dig into myself to know what I want has always slipped through my mind.

But not earlier than tonight, suddenly I have an answer to that. A very simple one. I want ROMANCE. But when I checked the dictionary and Wikipedia, I was not quite satisfied with the usual definition: “Romance is the expressive and pleasurable feeling from an emotional attraction towards another person associated with love.”

Romance for me is more related to “romantic” gestures and attentions. Romance for me is to develop a deep connection with someone whom you can trust, it could be  an emotional attraction associated with love, or sexual desires, or a true affection. It is not important to fall in love with the person. What is important is the romantic exchange between this person and me but within trueness and honesty. It can be a platonic romantic affection or an ardent romantic love affair, or a strong friendship. The most important ingredients are respect and trust. And no games playing. Ever.

Romance between me and the other person would be like living in a sweet dream or in a bubble soap, colorful, beautiful and light, yet fragile if not handled with care. Untouchable by meanness, hypocrisy or deception. Romance to me is as simple as saying “I miss you” without being scared of the reaction of the other person. As simple as being spontaneous when I want to talk to the person without being judged. As easy as holding someone’s hands whenever you want to, and knowing that he will always like it, no matter what.

I am still looking for this person, the one who can bear with me this concept of “romance”. Who can understand that romance has little to do with “being in couple” or “being in a relationship”, it is about giving selflessly, being romantic, gentle to the other person, caring without demanding. As long as it lasts, making it last. In my romance, it would never be fear. Love is a possibility, is a plus-value but not a sine qua non condition. In my definition of romance, everyone would be free to love, to give and to receive and act truly and completely connectedly to himself first.

Is this ever possible ? Or am I living in a world of fantasy and unrealistic thoughts ? Could my idea of romance exist in our world ?

I want beauty, any kind of beauty, in a word, in a song, in a smile.

I want sweetness, in a word, in a song, in a smile.

I want trueness, in a word, in a song, in a smile.

In an endless connection.

That is my idea of romance and that is the closest to the idea of what I want.

I just want to feel

Yesterday late at night I discovered Eckhart Tolle in an interview about love. “Love is an ego strategy to avoid surrender. You are looking to someone to give you that which can only come to you in the state of surrender. …The Spanish language is the most honest in this respect. It uses the same verb “Te quiero”,  for “I love you” and “I want you”. To the ego, loving and wanting are the same, whereas true love has no wanting in it, no desire to possess or for your partner to change”. 

Then I remember the famous quote of Jenny Holzer “Protect me from what I want”.

So far I can agree with E. Tolle.

When I love, I don’t want to possess. I don’t want to change the other person. I don’t want him to complete me. I am me and he is him. I look at him. He is great. And that’s it. Only the present moment. The love, him and me. Not more complicated than that. My love is not blind. It lasts when it has to last. When it has to last, I let myself go, I let him go. I don’t want to protect myself. I do get attached because it is a wonderful feeling. I set myself free to love. I don’t think when it happens, when it hits me. I rarely love. So when it happens it is a beautiful state of mind. I am not scared. I am a bit scared before it happens. But then I surrender. Because it is great. Until it hurts or not. But pain also comes and goes. It is like an “all-inclusive” package with love. Luckily it comes but also disappears at some point. Sometimes it stays longer, sometimes it disappears quickly.

When I love, I just feel it. I walk with it. I live love when I feel love. And I accept it.

The interview of E. Tolle gets complicated at the end and needs some more reflections for me to fully agree with him. I will get there with more time.

The only thing matters to me is TO FEEL.

I just don’t want to live like a robot.

I get attached.

I love.

I feel.

I have a secret love

“I’m free, I think. I shut my eyes and think hard and deep about how free I am, but I can’t really understand what it means. All I know is I’m totally alone. All alone in an unfamiliar place, like some solitary explorer who’s lost his compass and his map. Is this what it means to be free? I don’t know, and I give up thinking about it.” (Kafka on the Shore – Haruki Murakami)

I am not only attracted to your external beauty. There is more about you than your beauty.

I always have a secret love for adventurers – the real ones. But rare are people who could be a real adventurer with no attach, no fear and true beliefs. You have no “clichés”, you are authentic. You have a philosophy of life which is simple yet difficult to live and experience when one is still too scared and materialist. You see life in such a simple way that sometimes I could just not understand. Because I am the one who has a hard time to get rid of books, clothes and stuff. When I talk with you, it seems like that there is only one path to simplicity, happiness and peace in mind. Mostly because you have no fear but only faith in what you truly want. You don’t need to stay in your comfort zone. Or better define your comfort zone is everything and nothing.

I am not only attracted to your external beauty. If I write about your beautiful personality, it seems easy to choose this way to describe you. I don’t like to put words in compliments. But I have to say, this time I could not avoid this process. I just want to write about your beautiful personality with my simple words and thoughts. Apparently you had accomplished something or you had done something to yourself to reach this simplicity in your way of living. And this amazed me.

A few days ago I watched for the second time the movie “Blood Diamond” with Leonardo Di Caprio. I always have a secret love for real adventurers. He was stunning in the movie. And so are you in real-life. The closest to this kind of hero – yes – you are. I cannot explain myself more than that. Some people develop a secret love for lawyers, boxers, artists. I just simply like the adventurers with a free spirit and an independent heart, the one I could never have and tame.

So it is true. I am not only attracted to your external beauty. There is something about you that makes this secret love always secret and unaccomplished.

Perfection was not the other person

“They sat on a park bench, held hands, and told each other their stories hour after hour. They were not lonely anymore. They had found and been found by their 100% perfect other. What a wonderful thing it is to find and be found by your 100% perfect other. It’s a miracle, a cosmic miracle.” (1Q84 – Haruki Murakami)

We sat in the car. We had no destination. In front of us a beautiful lake and the imposing gorgeous mountains. From far it looked like the body of a woman, with curves and breasts formed by the shape of the mountains. He put on the music. We talked and listened to the music. People passed by, looking at us, some smiled to us, some not.

Inactivity fit us well.

It was just so perfect that one thought of mine could ruin everything. So I did not think but instead lived. And because there was nothing to think about. Time flew and so did these moments.

Good beats and vibes from his playlist. In front of us this postcard of a country I discovered this very first time. Such beautiful landscape was a blessing.

Perfection was not the other person. Perfection is peace I carried inside of me. It was delightful to add him in this perfection though.

We did not hold hands. I did give him a kiss on the cheek once.

Then we got hungry after two hours and decided to go somewhere for dinner. We drove with no destination. We had great music. Maybe by then I did touch his hand from time to time. I did not remember.

It was not a miracle. It was simple pleasure. We might be perfect for each other or we might not be. We did not find each other. Or maybe we did. I don’t know what it was. The moment was exquisite. Let it be this way. I did not think but instead lived. And so did he. I think.

Lost in a no-season’s time

When we met I thought autumn had somehow started. It was a humid day with a temperature lower than usual for the season. But it was sunny with the light of a September sun. The sun was less bright and carried already a yellow tone of early autumnal leaves.

We walked together a few blocks. First the sun was shy, seemed like following you quietly. Then it appeared progressively behind some of the very thin clouds. In the shade, it was probably a bit chilly. But we did not even notice it.

You talked and little by little together with your voice, I could feel more and more rays of sunlight. My eyes were dazzled. Was is the sun or was it your voice? Sparkling with golden particles.

You smiled a few times. And we were back in summer. Definitely. Light breeze seemed to bring more life and warmness to your voice.

I asked you a few polite questions. I heard the music coming from somewhere. Maybe it was from my head. The tunes were familiar. I was quite sure that it was from my head. The tunes were from the songs you sent me at nights. I felt bedazzled.

The air was warmer and so was my skin. I imagined the touch of your skin under the sunlight. Silky soft it would be, with the colors of the summer turning into autumn and of the autumn transforming back into summer. I felt myself overwhelmed by curiosity and sensations of all kinds. The feeling that I had somehow lost the control of myself in front of you was first fuzzy then clear then again fuzzy. I could not define myself and I could not say for sure which season it was. Hardly after one hour being together. It disturbed me to lose the notion of time and seasons while you were there. We just met a few moments ago. You could not have such effect on me. It was insane to feel like exploring your mind and body in a no-season’s time.

I followed you through the city, the one you had known and lived in a long while ago. Streets after streets. You were still a stranger and I still felt lost.

The evening slowly approached us. You were still a stranger. A stranger whose smile I was familiar with by then and whose voice I could recognize under any circumstances. The sun became dim light by the countryside where we decided to stay.

You put on some music. It helped us to disguise our shyness. Sometimes we stayed quiet. Silence was not awkward. Silence had a smell of desire and I would not mind. Close to you, I could feel your body but did not dare to touch. Close to you, I could feel your lips but it was not time to kiss. Close to you, I had stayed in this dream for four days and three nights. With all seasons coming up all together. Days were nights and nights were days. I daydreamt at nights and thought of you even when you were next to me. I could throw away my watch. Looking at it just disturbed me more.

When I left you, I vaguely remembered which day it was. Time was even less important. Memories right away became hopes. Hopes of seeing you again, exploring you again through the sunlight emanated from your eyes and through the drunkenness conveyed by your voice.

You were still a stranger, the one honored by all of my senses and very deep desires. In a no-season’s time.