I don't know how this dear friend of mine can always find the right thing for me at the right time. He recommended me to read a book called "Letter from an unknown woman" by Stefan Zweig written in 1922 (!) [ This is the book I got ]. It was about a desperate woman who finally found the courage to write a letter to a man whom she loved obsessively right before she took her last breath. She spent her entire life spinning around the man who couldn't even recognize her. A very sad story. You can feel her flaming love through the words, so powerful that it can almost burn you.
I see a little bit of myself in the man, a little bit of myself in the woman. I am spoiled. Spoiled rotten by my parents and a special friend who will be eager to read this post the moment I press "Publish". They are the people who are willing to hear what I am going to say, who care to know what I think of them, but will nevertheless love me all the same.
I feel blessed to be spoiled. But it's a happy sad thing. I am so eager to know what does it feel like to love someone unconditionally. I need a burning passion, not only towards art, towards adventures, but also towards other people, till then my life is complete.
May be I still haven't met the right person, or I still haven't learned how to let my emotions flow. But no I am not cold-hearted. I am sensitive. I am delicate. I know it's all inside me. All I need is a key, or someone who's kind enough to answer the door.
Knock, Knock. Please, let me in.
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