Today we lived in a world of cynicism where people look at each other with disdain, where romantic love has been watered down and triggered by a burst of hormones. Where love has been reduced to nothing more than a dose of dopamine, no different than being addicted to cocaine, not so much magical right? Imagine the convergence of lovers, distilled into a coke binge. To be honest, I find some kind of irony about this resignation regarding letting go of love. Love that which inspired Romeo and Juliet. The journey of finding the one that is as god. The encounter with a divine being, that is to put my lover in a pedestal only to lose myself in a romantic worship. A scripted resurrection, my state of apotheosis, and the love I still hunger for until now. This is why I continue to watch countless of romantic movies and still be moved to tears by the moments of tenderness and beauty and warmth. I also still crave for those moments of pillow talk, an inter subjectivity, those moments of being happy or sad. Where your lover looks at you, and you look at them and you see yourself being seen by them. These times, these changes, the intimacies of the moment of consummation I still believe I can still find it. I think it still live in our psyches, giving out signal for a greater intimacies, changes, and deeper and higher point of fidelity of subtlety with other. And that will keep me from searching, keep me dissatisfied. I won’t settle nor will I let go not until I found the romantic dream the grand gesture of the amorous embrace in which to fulfill till’ the end of time. The promise of being in total union with someone…
