all my life i thought of love as some kind of voluntary enslavement. . . well, that's a lie: freedom only exists when love is present. the person who gives him or herself wholly, the person who feels freest, is the person who loves wholeheartedly.

and the person who loves wholeheartedly, feels free.

this is why, regardless of what i may experience, do or learn, nothing makes sense. i hope this time passes quickly, so that i can resume the search for myself- in the form of a man who understands me and does not make me suffer. . .

but what the hell am i saying? in love, no one can harm anyone else; we are, each of us, responsible of our own feelings and cannot blame others for what we feel. it hurt when i lost each of those various men i truly fell in love with, now, though i am convinced that no one loses anyone, because no one owns anyone.

this is the true experience of freedom: having the most important thing in the world without having to own it. . .