This is the last post that will be related to this issue for a long time. That's a promise.
I don't read psychology books necessarily to help me understand better the people and world that are around me, but mostly to understand myself,and why exactly I make certain bad decisions... but oh well... my next post will be definitely on the book I'm now reading, on Freud. Maybe I misjudged the dude. The book, or more an essay, is called ”Death and us” and I must admit it was quite extraordinarily well written.

To be honest, I am not sure I do believe in love anymore... I tend to believe in a lot of things, but this one, precisely, really makes me often doubt. If someone tells me,”Oh, I think I love that person”, I think I'm able to find you a reason why, without implying anything emotional, but more of a psychological one. It often saddens me, but either from a shield I have created, either because of something that lies in my ”Superego”, as some would call it, it does not depend on me anymore.
Yet, I enjoy listening and reading romances, and love poetry or letters, or to listen to how Ville is talking about the promise of love, until death and beyond... maybe it's because of my girly DNA, but I somehow doubt it's only that. I am myself a big fool for romanticism and dreams. A little too big of a fool.
How would it be if there would still exist, those letters, with a few lines written, but so full of meaning and sharing, that carry the perfume of the person you love, in which you can read respect and an absolute passion. I will end up like Madame Bovary. Or even worse. Pitiful me.
The point is that I do not want to believe it anymore. I do not want to hear about it anymore. I do not want to see it anymore. But how do you manage, in this world, to totally ignore it?
I do not need to be someone's object of revenge for a past relationship, or someone's play-toy. I do not wish to waste my ephemeral feelings, to the point to be forever finished and well locked.
I cannot describe my... (no word is good enough), therefore I chose to describe it through someone else's words, that maybe understood it far much better than me, and that truly believed it.
One day, my Beethoven...

”Though still in bed, my thoughts go out to you, my Immortal Beloved, now and then joyfully, then sadly, waiting to learn whether or not fate will hear us - My angel, my all, my very self - Love demands everything and that very justly - thus it is to me with you, and to your with me. But you forget so easily that I must live for me and for you; if we were wholly united you would feel the pain of it as little as I - My heart is full of so many things to say to you - ah - there are moments when I feel that speech amounts to nothing at all - Cheer up - remain my true, my only treasure, my all as I am yours. No one else can ever possess my heart - never - never - Oh God, why must one be parted from one whom one so loves.
Be calm - love me - today - yesterday - what tearful longings for you - you - you - my life - my all - farewell. Oh continue to love me - never misjudge the most faithful heart of your beloved.
ever thine
ever mine
ever ours”
P.S.: One day...