I´m always in love. In love with someone, in particular; with no one, in particular. In love. With love, with life, with myself, with my life, with the idea of love, its sweetness and infinite possibilities.
-You´re already in love, aren´t you? – he asks me, suspiciously.
-Of course I am. Can´t you feel it? – I answer, kissing him. He pushes my kiss away, throwing it inside his ego, annoyed.
– I knew it! You were already in love when you met me. I could tell: you are always singing and smiling with THAT look in your eyes…you talk of love as if it´s burning inside you. I could tell you had another man and I stilll…ah…You fooled me.
-No. Well. I do love you. I didn´t fool you. You misunderstood me. I, I, I. I can´t explain.
I´m rarely understood (for this, for that and whatelse). Lovers are not of this world, I know.
Here we go, great week!
Follow the link for a deeper perspective of my heart: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jlYfaJYn5fU&feature=share