All you need is love
Another update, since the night is rainy and my mind is exploding with thoughts and ideas and feelings expanded everywhere: every particle of my tired body is pushing me forward.
I am thinking about the beauty of love, and the miracle that happens when one falls in love with somebody; I had forgotten about it. I remember being deeply in love with The one who must not be named, aka Guy’s playing partner, by chance. I remember blushing when I heard his name, and loving the sight of him arriving at the band on his moped, his fingers moving on the oboe, the concentrated look in his eyes, the smile that I photographed so often. I remember too many things, sometimes.
See my photo archives dated back to 1997 and 1998: it’s an endless series of pixies of him, masked among photos of other people, casual groups of people and his lovely beautiful face shining through. A friend had bought a small notebook, on the cover there was a picture of Leonardo Di Caprio, and inside it was a whole collection of photos of My boy, to look at, keep in my school-bag, show my friends during some boring lesson: I was a child and hopelessly in love. It was beautiful. It never hurt.
He was the only person I have ever been in love with; when I realised that the love was over, nostalgia and melancholy took over me, swept my mind away, and my heart broke. I guess that was one of those important moments that make you change, in a way.
I don’t think I will ever feel that way again, but it’s obvious: feelings change, although their substance remains the same.
I understand that my love for “him” will be unique and unforgettable, like the moments shared with my (then) best friends in the fantastic summer of ’98. I understand and I accept this, now. It’s taken a long way to get to this moment, when the past becomes a shiny page I can look at with a peaceful state of mind and with no regrets. Such a long way. It must be the music that makes me feel so; and the beauty of living for today, with a serene thought towards the future, and the love of my friends, and the love in my heart that is opening to the world, although slowly. In a way, I am already accepting myself, the person that I am, more than I used to; this is good: it means that I am also opening my heart to myself, loving me before beginning to love the others. It sounds cheesy to say here, but a song comes handy now, to explain what I need to say: all the love I have is in my mind. Sometimes it is so easy to forget. And this thought is so beautiful that is makes me cry with joy.
And another update: I am crazy, yes, I think you know. I have just sent a message to the Guy asking him what makes him happy. It is a question that nobody asks anymore, isn’t it? Has anybody ever asked it, really?
Blame it on the music, people, blame it on the music.
What I mean is: I love. I want to make people happy, the people I love. So I need to know what makes them happy; I need them to share something with me, the way I would like to share something with them. I think this is a “rational” reason.
Let me love you.
I am thinking about the beauty of love, and the miracle that happens when one falls in love with somebody; I had forgotten about it. I remember being deeply in love with The one who must not be named, aka Guy’s playing partner, by chance. I remember blushing when I heard his name, and loving the sight of him arriving at the band on his moped, his fingers moving on the oboe, the concentrated look in his eyes, the smile that I photographed so often. I remember too many things, sometimes.
See my photo archives dated back to 1997 and 1998: it’s an endless series of pixies of him, masked among photos of other people, casual groups of people and his lovely beautiful face shining through. A friend had bought a small notebook, on the cover there was a picture of Leonardo Di Caprio, and inside it was a whole collection of photos of My boy, to look at, keep in my school-bag, show my friends during some boring lesson: I was a child and hopelessly in love. It was beautiful. It never hurt.
He was the only person I have ever been in love with; when I realised that the love was over, nostalgia and melancholy took over me, swept my mind away, and my heart broke. I guess that was one of those important moments that make you change, in a way.
I don’t think I will ever feel that way again, but it’s obvious: feelings change, although their substance remains the same.
I understand that my love for “him” will be unique and unforgettable, like the moments shared with my (then) best friends in the fantastic summer of ’98. I understand and I accept this, now. It’s taken a long way to get to this moment, when the past becomes a shiny page I can look at with a peaceful state of mind and with no regrets. Such a long way. It must be the music that makes me feel so; and the beauty of living for today, with a serene thought towards the future, and the love of my friends, and the love in my heart that is opening to the world, although slowly. In a way, I am already accepting myself, the person that I am, more than I used to; this is good: it means that I am also opening my heart to myself, loving me before beginning to love the others. It sounds cheesy to say here, but a song comes handy now, to explain what I need to say: all the love I have is in my mind. Sometimes it is so easy to forget. And this thought is so beautiful that is makes me cry with joy.
And another update: I am crazy, yes, I think you know. I have just sent a message to the Guy asking him what makes him happy. It is a question that nobody asks anymore, isn’t it? Has anybody ever asked it, really?
Blame it on the music, people, blame it on the music.
What I mean is: I love. I want to make people happy, the people I love. So I need to know what makes them happy; I need them to share something with me, the way I would like to share something with them. I think this is a “rational” reason.
Let me love you.
Labels: mind and heart
posted by Peggy @ 11:38 PM
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