Never underestimate the consequences of love. Neither at 20 nor 30.

Password? I adore you

It was born with him that game. I liked to listen to what he would come up with each time, to get me to open that door.

And he liked to be tested.

He won, on every front. Outsmart, in romance, in love.

There was only one thing he could never have, like me. The purity of my heart. The sincerity of my feelings. The courage to defend them.

And so he went. With cowardice.

And the only sensible question that I would have to ask myself from the moment of his departure would be how long it would take to heal.

How many plasters I had to put all over the place to try to heal that wound. I had to cover my body. How many sunrises I looked wishing him beside me again, one last time.

But when it ends the only thing you can not do is turn the page to move on. You do not want time to pass, not without him. You do not want to forget.

At 30, still. When love does not think has more mysteries for you.

When did you feel, strong, big and you saw it die. When you've already cried, suffered. You grow up knowing both sides.

But if your heart has not yet found the perfect half of himself, in thirty years, there will have been the possibility that you have had to deal with different kinds of love.

And yes. I've slammed straight, face and heart against the wrong love.

I am not talking when the story is over for the choice of both. But when he has left. Because Not that much Into You. Because he has another. Because for him, you were not "The One", even if for you, he was "The One".

You're wrong if you think that the age and experience make you immune.

Never underestimate the consequences of love. Neither at 20 nor 30.

Because love makes you vulnerable. It stripped off reason. He bares defenses.

And do not you realize that because happiness, passion, enthusiasm cover your weakness.

You do not know, to be naked.

First stage: Nothing makes more sense

Nothing in your life makes any sense anymore. Nothing anymore, without him. The sea, the sun, the moon. A beer, dinner, friends, a mojito. It makes no sense that the phone stops ringing. You make no sense of the love songs. Now your life has no sense anymore. Your beauty, the smiles, the irony. Your makeup, your clothes, your tunes. It makes no sense at night..when you turn, and he's not there next to you. He doesn't hold your hand anymore.

You feel like dying. As if you had a limb amputated. Like, having to learn to walk without a leg. And you do not want. You don't give up. You do not give yourself peace.

Because he was for you, the sense of it all.

How much does your heart make fun of you? The same heart that is good at building defenses and tear them down in an instant. That fails so painful and heavy as domineering and strong is the way it loves.

And that grip in the chest you feel is hard, real, alive.

How long does it take to forget a love is a meaningless question at least as how long it takes to fall in love. I like to think it's a matter of seasons. You have to get new concrete and bricks and rebuild your new days on the rumble.

And with them, you will put other memories over the old.

Spring was more beautiful with him. That can not be deleted. But those movies, those pictures, those messages you will need to stop sooner or later to watch and re-read.

He is not there any longer. I wanted him. Your poor deluded heart tries to find many excuses for his absence. However, you only live the reality when you realize; he has left. He does not look for you anymore. He has learned to survive without "that limb."

And you can too.

The second phase: fades into memory

You cannot not die for love. No one does.

Unless stabbed, shot, beaten to death.

It is an excruciating pain that is there, and you can not cure it. It cures by itself. With time. No aspirin, no medicine can never alleviate the pain.

At thirty, you discover how to mature the pain is as a grown up woman. Because you can ask yourself questions and answer honestly. And leave that wound on the heart to heal alone, because you know that no one else can give you relief. You think of having to rely on the time to pass by because it heals. But there is one thing worse than that you will face, the absence.

That simultaneously destroys and separates. Then detaches and only hurts. Then detaches and you feel nothing more.

You begin to understand that it is cured when.. you do not even know when.

It heals of a sudden; that's all. It's gone. Back, back into memory each time. But the memory of when you were happy because you loved him slowly fades into memory. You are Okay finally. The emotions you feel, they all begin to make sense, they are no longer clouded with tears. Those things that you neglected because you were too busy to suffer. Breathe deeply. Collect from the ground the clothes of that happiness, the passion and the enthusiasm you had undressed and put them back on. You're safe and comfortable in your clothes of independence, strength, freedom. With the whole heart, again.

The worst is over.

Moral of the story: never underestimate the consequences of love.

You shake your head and smile to yourself.

You will do it yet again.

You know well that love is the engine of everything. It is your engine. And you can choose to slow it down, to make it run like a small car even if you drive a Ferrari. And pay tax according to engine capacity. The pain for the passion. You know.

It was the price you paid for loving to madness, all that pain.

And if it will happen again, that your heart melts in emotion, you will nude it once again.

Without ifs and buts. Without thinking about those fucking consequences.

Who knows that there are not.

Next time.

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