Loving is like writing a book: you can only do it once, at most twice in a lifetime. with the event, that one of two finishes, the uniqueness of devotion to the lover also ends. coincidence and human(it probably doesn't matter that much, What kind of) as well as the right time make the exceptional event possible, by encountering this unreservedness in you, this innocent belief, this crazy, great blindness. Then you are initiated and slapped, and there is no way, to clean up the forever murky waters.
Maybe that's why, why so many old couples stay together.
So it's like playing the lottery. You can only lose everything once, at most twice. But then it's lost. In this area of life, too, one is at the level of sobriety, reached the lack of illusions. Only now has woman lost her innocence, only now. Dong!
This is how one walks home the late path of maturity, getting closer to yourself, no mistakes, no jokes, no more arrogance, High, which dissolves inwards. Nothing more to pick, but something to sow, i want to know?! Was!?
I tell you this, Raven, after i tried (this after many months) to cover the traces of this devotion in the innermost corner of my physical body with something else or to clean my body at this innermost point.
(purity): You see my language has become strangely awkward and angular.
Of, with your wing beat.
Or do you think I finally get a wing?! Lol.
(7.10.22)