Conversas de amigas e conclusões comuns...

"Love isn’t an easy concept to understand. Love itself is the purest form of energy that connects any two beings, human or other.
It’s the embodiment of all that is good and perfect. When we talk about love in the romantic sense, we are basically trying to embody something that is pure and perfect within two individuals who are neither perfect nor pure themselves.
We are taking two imperfect, flawed, darkened, confused individuals and submerging them in the waters of romantic love, cleansing their souls – a sort of baptism. We look to love as the answer, the solution to all of our problems.
Because love is perfect, we feel that once we have it, everything in our lives becomes perfect. This is the story that we were told growing up. This is the story that we continuously see portrayed in books, movies and TV shows. Our culture feeds us an ideal and urges us to find it for ourselves. The problem is that such an ideal doesn’t exist.
The way that we perceive romantic love is wrong. It’s misguided and damaging. While imagining flawed beings such as ourselves getting our hands on something so perfect excites us beyond anything else, the reality eventually will come crashing down.
The way pop culture portrays romantic love is quite brilliant really. We are told that there is one perfect individual out there for us. A person who fills the void that we feel, making us whole.
We are told that there is someone out there who will make us better individuals, who will make us happy beyond belief, and who will fall head over heels for us.
We are told that every single person has such a person out there waiting for them – waiting to be found. No matter how flawed or stupid the individual, there is someone out there.
Imagine… the greatest, most incredible and perfect prize in the world is attainable by even the lowest of the low. Moreover, everybody is said to eventually find this person – so no need for anyone to worry.
What an amazing story, no? You are good the way you are, but when you find this perfect person, whom you can’t not find, you’ll be even more perfect. This person will make your life less miserable and you’ll be so in love that nothing else in the world will matter.
Your sh*tty, boring, wasteful life will have a meaning at last! Of course, you can’t work towards bettering yourself on your own. You need your other half. No point in working on yourself anyway – just go find someone to marry and have children with.
Man, do we love those magical beans. Just plant one in the ground and you’re climbing your way up to a fortune. When it comes to love, we have to be wary. We have to be sure that we have a proper understanding of it, even in its most basic forms, in order to – pardon my French – not f*ck things up.
Love doesn’t just happen. It doesn’t just fix all of your problems and it most certainly doesn’t just work its magic on its own. For love to be magical, you have to make it magical. Love isn’t simply a noun; it’s a verb just as well.
It’s frightening if you think about it… We live in a world in which people define love as a noun in the fashion mention above and most people don’t even consider it in its active form.
We find love. We don’t “do” love – and that’s the problem. People make finding love some sort of treasure hunt. They find the spot, dig that chest out of the ground, and then finish off the last page with a “The End.”
There is absolutely nothing in life that is worth having that does not require an effort to both achieve and then maintain. Those things that do not require any maintenance are either dead and everlasting or not worth holding on to.
Because of love’s nature, it’s living. Because it’s a living thing, it must be tended to, maintained, paid attention to, cared for.
When you love someone, don’t bother telling that person so because the truth is that he or she won’t believe you until you show this person that you love him or her. Words have become useless in our society, as lying has become second nature.
Most people will say what they have to say to get what they want – regardless of the damage those lies cause. Love as a noun is utterly useless. Most of you have an entirely wrong definition. The rest of us will work on refining our definition for the rest of our lives.
To love is an action. It is something that you do, actively. Most couples make the mistake of getting comfortable within their relationships.
They lose the mystery, the excitement, the passion. But understand that it’s not as if they left it in the cab. The flame didn’t fall out of their back pockets. They chose not to love anymore.
It’s that simple. You chose to stop loving. You chose to stop caring. You chose to stop being curious, to stop asking, to stop proving you love that person. We are all insecure creatures who wish to find someone who will be there for us every day for the rest of our lives, showing us love and allowing us to show how much we love too.
Yet, we all f*ck it up. We play games. We get lazy. We become careless and removed. We want love to be delivered to us along with that pizza and 2 liters of soda.
We want to keep love as if it were an ornament, a thing. Looking at love this way guarantees that you will spend most of your life alone and miserable."

Das relações

Não me arrogo a escrever muito sobre relações, muito menos amorosas e muito menos da minha. Aliás, a minha é minha; não partilho.
Não me arrogo.
No entanto, ultimamente, tenho sido confrontada com muitas situações que me fazem parar para pensar. Pensar nelas, no tempo, no tempo certo, nas pessoas, nos encontros, na vida, na vida ao lado de alguém.
É impossível acreditar que o amor subsiste above all. Esqueçam. Não subsiste.
Impossível acreditar que o amor subsiste sempre e a todos os crescimentos, a todos os desvios, a todos os países, a todos os tempos.
O amor subsiste, quando subsiste, porque sim.
É difícil o ser humano conseguir ser tão frio perante isto. "Então estou entregue à sorte?!".
Não é bem à sorte mas é quase. Guardo com um carinho medroso o momento em que, no filme Closer, o Jude Law (uma pausa idiota para o momento "O-JUDE-LAW") volta atrás, entra no quarto com uma rosa e ela diz "I just don't love you anymore"; "Since when?"; "Now, just now". É um filme e não é só um filme. Acontece. Just now. E não te amo mais. Just. Now.
Mas quantas e quantas vezes, quando algo acaba, o cérebro dá voltas e voltas e se põe a tentar escrutinar onde é que errou, o que é que podia fazer, quando, para quando, as palavras, vezes e vezes, uma roda contínua, choro, noites sem dormir. Não conseguimos encarar esta verdade - que não deixa de ser algo ignóbil - que não podemos decidir o que sentir e, mais, que o outro (usualmente aquele que ainda se ama) também não.
Mas atenção: podemos decidir outras coisas. Há quem decida lutar. E isso pode ter a ver com sentimento. Mas também pode ter muito pouco a ver com ele.
Uma coisa que tinha aprendido há muito tempo é que não podemos garantir que nada seja nosso para sempre. Nem que não volte a ser.
O que vou aprendendo e reaprendendo ao longo do tempo é que o mais importante de tudo é que não percamos a relação connosco próprios. A noção do eu. Do quem sou eu (mesmo que não saibamos para onde vamos). É isso que nos guia nesta ponte entre o ir e o ficar, entre o "ter" e o "não ter" e mesmo entre nós e aquela pessoa que - por favor, por favor, por favor - nos leva papas de aveia à cama quando temos uma dor de cabeça, nos acha lindas desde o primeiro minuto da manhã e acredita - sim, hoje acredita - que quer fazê-lo para o resto da vida.