Under the incessant and multicolored rain of awakening, I sometimes feel like deserting... forgetting that I must learn, understand, and accept you as a part of me... just like those doves with melodious wings that weave, mocking us, the lips of our hearts. What do the sands of days and the sea of time matter to those who bloom in their present and bathe their eyes in the beauty of the world. From now on, I know you are no longer the Salome of old, but my secret smile...
Falling out of love is a terrible thing… In the whirlwind of discovery and passion, we shape the other in the image of our dreams and desires. Then time forces them to reclaim their true place… The lines blur, distort, shatter… the colors fade… For a while, we try to adapt, convincing ourselves that their flaws are charming, amusing, endearing quirks. But slowly, the ‘us’ fades, and the ‘I’ regains its strength… The mind takes over, eclipsing the heart. The children we once were become adults again… A phase of tolerance begins—we reason with ourselves, telling ourselves that perfect, everlasting love is just a utopian illusion, that we must accept the little things that bother us and focus on what’s beautiful in them… Positivity, the survival instinct of love, the Then comes the moment when habits take hold. Passive acceptance. Resignation. The other becomes a fixture in our lives, like a piece of furniture… until fatigue and reflection creep in. We begin analyzing everything, qu...

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