‘But you know he is French’, is what my friend told me.
It was a reversed warning, because it was something I already knew.
And also because me and my french lover had ended it already.
The french are not that reliable when it comes to love.
Sadly I tell from experience.
Although they are an exhibition of ‘L’amour toujours’, or something they would like to promote.
I believe the French are a pronunciation about the tenderness of the heart.
The french arrogance is perhaps something mistaken, to protect and serve what can only be understand by someone that listens.
To the whisper of the soul and perhaps who understands love truly.
Who could that be?
But it was this french guy that I was dating.
There was something about him.
About him and me.
It was the look on people’s faces, when we were walking hand in hand in the Lisbon streets.
The judgement of others, can be scary, however it could also be something positive.
‘People are looking at us’, is what he said.
‘Yes ‘, I answered.
‘Because we make sense’.
This silent approval of the outside world, was the confirmation given by the matrix we are living in.
Although the love between us died, maybe it even never existed.
I can still not understand exactly what happened.
It was really a mystery what he did.
But that I felt something deep with him, is clear to me.
Many reasons I can give, of why it isn’t anymore.
But when it comes to love.
I believe there should be room to be and to become who you are.
Love means, basically just to grow.
At least that is what love means to me.