Rhythms of the Heart.

On a night of long sighs and conversations with my soul, I discovered that loving is a delicious torture, and dreaming, a breath of air for the soul.
What is love when it has no recipient? It is a curious little sprite that caresses my thoughts and a tickle in my throat that rings like a bell whispering: I love you.
Even though I no longer have someone to love, I have decided to fall in love with love itself.
I write these lines to:
Make weary hearts sigh.
Heal the wounds of those who have lost their way.
Remind us that loving is not only about being accompanied, but about vibrating at the mere memory.
Welcome to this anthology of short stories where the purest feeling is the only protagonist.
Because here, love is not sought... it is felt.