The Love of My Life

I met B. on Chatroulette. We came across each other on the world wide digital randomness. After many "nexted" penisis, there he was, waving insults to all the uninteresting pass by genitals. I waved him back... One month later, I was flying to France to meet him on the real specific chosen place that is his home. B. revealed himself to be exactly who I'd met on the internet: a wisely silly wonderful man, beautiful, full of life, ideas and ideals. B. is the truth I seek in the world. B. is real. In me and on his own. He is my dream coloured by a whole lot of experiences and thoughts and beliefs that go beyond my imagination, overwhelming me. B. is the book that I have opened. We shared stories and music and bodies and food and films and theories and languages and football matches... We shared ourselves. He opened his home to me, I opened my heart to him. I brought him back. He kept me there. We seized the time. We lived the life. We loved.

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As you grow up you learn to relativize everything. You seize things in due time and space and relate/ compare them with other things in your life. You appreciate, you don't give yourself in. Nothing is absolute or definitive. You're more conscious of yourself, of your life and your choices, of who you are and/ or want to be. And you are your silly friends, your conservative family, your hectic job, your loud music in your apple green scratched car, your singing Deolinda in the shower, your dancing while sweeping, your huge pile of unwashed dishes, your chair that should be taken to be repaired ages ago, your unread books, your favourite David Lynch movie, your peculiar taste for Mali's music, your beers in the fridge, your carpet in the living room, your friend visiting for a week or two, your yellow suitcase, your late nights on the computer... They are all your choices and you love each one. They are your life. And if you love your choices you love your life, you love yourself. But if you love...? Shouldn't you just appreciate? Not give yourself in? Nothing is absolute or definitive. Isn't it? You're more conscious of yourself now that you're growing... Are you? Didn't you just agree that nothing is absolute and definitive? Isn't that a choice too? Isn't it just relative?

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I was asked today if I had ever found the love of my life: "Yes, I did.", I said, "Many times." :)