The big question.

Why does love leave such deep scars?

Why is it so damn hard to love?

I’ve known many books, read many theories, traveled many places, crossed by so many faces, yet, no one ever could explain the real why.

Maybe it is because there’s no explanation  in the first place. Maybe it’s supposed to be this way. Why would love if you knew you would suffer then? 

Yet again, ain’t life about suffering?

A mum suffers to put a child on earth. The child suffers to get its way. The adults suffer because they don’t know shit about life itself. And then we suffer when it’s time to leave life behind.

Seems like love and life have something in common. Seems like one isn’t without the other. We can’t kill one, in order to have the other. Tricky deal!

What are we to choose, then? A life without love? Loving without living? 

Oh God. I wish I knew. 

Sometimes, I wish I could.

That I could go back to the start of all things. 

To forget. To forgive. To not knowing at all.

Indeed, nobody said it was not easy: so please, take me back to the start.

But, in the darkest of all those shades around us, how could you not love?

How could you ignore a bird that sings for free every morning, a butterfly that lands on your hand, a child who smiles at you, a cat that sleeps on your lap, a lyric that penetrates your soul, or a perfect sunset down the road? 

How could you not choose the light?

We can. And we must!

Oh love, just don’t forget about us!