Leggendo, mi sono messa a pensare all'amore, parte integrante della mia esistenza, visto che lo vivo ogni giorno. Chiacchierando con alcuni amici e colleghi, viene fuori che apparentemente dopo un non specificato periodo di tempo, la passione in un rapporto "dovrebbe" svanire. Ecco, io dopo tre anni e mezza ancora sto aspettando che subentri la routine, la noia, la calma. Mi sento ancora cosí stupidamente, ciecamente, fantasticamente innamorata come se fosse il primo giorno. Anche ora mentre scrivo lo guardo, immerso nella sua passione (ah cara chitarra, sarai pure mia rivale ma ti voglio bene perché lo rendi felice) e provo un misto di sentimenti: l'emozione di ripercorrere nella mente tutti gli anni e tutti i momenti passati insieme, tutte le difficoltá superate, ma anche voglia di saltargli addosso!!
Mi rendo conto che sono fortunata. Sono tra i pochi fortunati, pochi scelti, quelli a cui é concesso, in questa vita, trovare l'anima gemella. E alla domanda "tu credi nell'amore?", io rido e basta. Come fai a non credere in una cosa che hai sotto il naso tutti i giorni?
I've discovered the amazing writer Elizabeth Gilbert when my life was falling apart: I had been thrown out of my apartment and was stuck in a job I hated. Eat, Pray, Love gave me the strength and inspiration to dream of another life, close to the one I'm leading now. The philosophical but also very refreshing words of this genius writer made me laugh, cry, and think. That's why, when Gilbert's new book, Committed, came out, I was very curious. In this book, Liz, forced to marry to avoid the deportation of her beloved, delves into the myths surrounding the act of marriage, and researches its history and the different practices of this ritual around the world.
Reading this book, I started thinking about love, a central part of my life as it literally lives in my house. Talking to some friends and coworkers, it emerges that, after an unspecified amount of time, the passion in a relationship is expected to fade. After three and a half years, I'm still waiting for that initial infatuation to subside and give way to boredom, routine and calm. I still feel madly, stupidly, blindly, fantastically in love, as if I had just laid eyes on him. Even now, as I'm writing, I glance over at him and see him immersed in his passion (oh dear guitar, even if you are my rival, I appreciate you so much because you make him so happy) and I'm overcome with a mix of feelings: I'm moved by the memories of all the years, all of the moments together and all the difficult times we've come through together, but I'm also overwhelmed by a desire to jump him!
I realize that I'm lucky. I'm one of the few chosen ones, the ones that, in this life, have been given the chance to find their soulmate. And at the question "do you believe in love?" I laugh. How can you not believe in something that looks you in the face every day?
Images: evilbeetgossip.com, shakeitbejbi.blogspot.com