fall in love again

It seems I’m going to complete this goal pretty soon!

in a restaurant, by chance…
And I walked away immediately. I can’t stand her, not yet.
But here I am, counting my blessings and the knowledge and happiness and strength I feel now inside of me; and I’m glad I’ve seen her.
Sometimes life gives you presents you cannot reject.

Funny… It’s been fast and furiosly done, but I’m much better now. Once you realize who’s the girl you’re in love with, and you see her just the way she is, not through your pink sunglasses, it’s amazingly easy. Painful, of course, but not that much.

And you get to know yourself a lot more than before. How is it that I could fall in love with her, given the way she is, the way she used to be with me? She didn’t care that much, didn’t show her love that much… She did nothing that much!

I was afraid to see it before, although I could have done it anytime. I guess I just didn’t want to find it out… Because when you find ot she’s not that good, and never was, you start asking about yorself…

As usual, in much wisdom, much sadness. But I want wisdom!

To fall in love again I have to fall out of it first.

And it hurts.

And pain.

Pain that makes you wiser.

And gives you more passion.

It almost always makes me stronger.

(see
http://andariego.diary-x.com/journal.cgi?entry=20060111 )

Losing love is like riding a see-saw. There you are, biting your nails and crying desperately -and suddenly you feel uplifted by some thought that happened to come your way with the promise of a future smile. And once you have started to enjoy it -it is gone, who knows where, with the last of your hopes, swallowed by deeper, darker spots on the corners of your soul.

And then, again, you catch yourself smiling, and remember her, and feel that pain in the stomach, and drop a tear or two, and smile again…

Until one day you realize the see-saw is not moving any more.

isn’t it? about crying in the night, running in the rain, and waiting for her to shower just to see her smile… about listening to her when she is singing… being unable to forget the way she holds her cigarrette, the way she smiles, the way she stops in the middle of the street to touch a cat very gently…

i guess love is just not worth it without it. and “passion” (like the Spanish “pasión”) comes from the Greek “pathos”, “to endure something”, “to suffer”...

I wonder if being in love involves being afraid, desperate, climbing to heaven and falling into hell… It’s been like this to me for some years now. But when all these things are not there, love isn’t, too… Is this love?

Anyway, I’d rather be desperated than bored!