Thinking about love, the mind evokes laughing images, of nocturnal ballads by the sea, two tender lovers overwhelmed by the wave while the world out there stops and everything smells light.
But the mind often lies and love, driven by the noblest intentions, often betrays our expectations.
And what do we mean by that? That love is sufering, that we should avoid loving for fear of sufering, that eternal love exists only for a select few?
And if we discover, raising our head well, turning our gaze, that love is nothing more than the synthesis.
