Is she just the one who grabbed my attention at the right time, an infection of infatuation burying itself in my soul through chance? Or am I drawn to her because she's who she is?
It is quite challenging to scavenge true life experiences in the middle of the overwhelming amount of fairy-tale like, romantic scenes, I have absorbed through a screen.
I love how you can bring sensorial experience through writing, which reminds me of how a romantic scene can be deprived of all of them, but the smell.
It keeps popping back in my mind, what I have experienced as a stranger had passed by. The woman, whose face I did not see had quickly vanished in the crowd behind me. But as seconds passed by, her scent started playing with my olfactive memory as it slowly brought to the surface, the memory of an intense, but short experience I had with someone. One that would create wounds of longing, and for a moment, I had it all back. An unbearable longing for someone that probably did not remember I existed. The textbook definition of platonic love, as the result of a sublimated passion.
The intensity was so overwhelming that it felt I had just lost the love of my life and that I would never get over it. But it all lasted a very short time and soon it was like it had never happened.
Thanks for the kind words Fábio. I've always enjoyed how some memories are almost as realistic as the original given the right stimulus. It's an idea I play with a lot.
It is quite challenging to scavenge true life experiences in the middle of the overwhelming amount of fairy-tale like, romantic scenes, I have absorbed through a screen.
I love how you can bring sensorial experience through writing, which reminds me of how a romantic scene can be deprived of all of them, but the smell.
It keeps popping back in my mind, what I have experienced as a stranger had passed by. The woman, whose face I did not see had quickly vanished in the crowd behind me. But as seconds passed by, her scent started playing with my olfactive memory as it slowly brought to the surface, the memory of an intense, but short experience I had with someone. One that would create wounds of longing, and for a moment, I had it all back. An unbearable longing for someone that probably did not remember I existed. The textbook definition of platonic love, as the result of a sublimated passion.
The intensity was so overwhelming that it felt I had just lost the love of my life and that I would never get over it. But it all lasted a very short time and soon it was like it had never happened.
Thanks for the kind words Fábio. I've always enjoyed how some memories are almost as realistic as the original given the right stimulus. It's an idea I play with a lot.