I wonder if Gaudi was collecting pieces of broken tiles, trying to mend his shattered heart, his crushed soul, his splintered being, his overwhelming sorrow for the unrequited love.
My eyes, on occasions, would ablaze with excitement, hoping for the new love to let my sparkle free. It is my heart that needs a lot of persuasions because its pain will hurt no one but me …
Only the desireless can see the world objectively, detached from emotion, outcome and need. But what is the meaning of the truth if there is no love in between?
Loving someone deeply makes us blind to the signs of emotional neglect.
To retreat in my aloneness, my beautifully peaceful garden, to find shade under my heart, in the solitude of abundance, without you in sight.
I’m wrapped in you. Melting in your silhouette and becoming one, a strange contour of love, flowing with the wind.