I was reading Paulo Coelho's "Eleven Minutes" yesterday and read through this part. I had to pause and ponder what was written and I just wanna share it with you.
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 most wholeheartedly.
And the person who loves wholeheartedly feels free.
That is why, regardless of what I might experience, do or learn, nothing makes sense. I hope this time passes quickly, so that I can resume my search for myself-- in the form of a man who understands me and does not make me suffer.
But what am I saying? In love, no one can harm anyone else; we are each of us responsible for our own feelings and cannot blame someone else for what we feel.
It hurt when I lost each of the various men I fell in love with. Now, though, I am convinced that no one loses anyone, because no one owns anyone.
That is the true experience of freedom: having the most important thing in the world without owning it.
---
p.90, "Eleven Minutes". Paulo Coelho.
"Don't just walk through life. Dance through it."
Click here for more info about the book.
Last night, I was looking forward to this day. Knowing that I won't have work to drag myself to in the evening. But then something happened that ruined my plans. Maybe it was my over-sentimentality. Someone said before that no guy would be in a relationship with me for a long time because of that. Maybe. Maybe not. But then what I have is no ordinary guy. He's a man, also struggling with his own life, trying to make ends meet, and I'm trying to "force" him into placing me in between. That was selfish of me, I know. But I just want him to do something special for me--like sacrifice his daily routine to spend time with me. I tell myself I always get to "sacrifice" my sleeping time or family time or personal time for him. I just wanted him to do the same. It's not his fault he doesn't have a sensitive bone in his body. It's not my fault all my bones are. I kept getting apologies. Not that I don't appreciate them, but I always get them. He's sorry, but he doesn't change. I want him to change, but I can't force him to, so I told myself to accept him for what he is. He told me the reason why he couldn't come. I pitied him. But I know that since he doesn't do something with his life, he'll end up where he is right now. And it's not only him who's suffering the consequences.
