I'm in Love

I want to scream to the whole world and let everyone know that I’m in love. With whom? I’m in love so passionately, and I love her so much, that I want everyone to love her. I can’t stop thinking of her. My senses tremble dominated by the constant expectancy of her presence. And I know I will never be able to touch her. But the feeling is so intense that I can almost perceive her physically. No, not almost! At the end, I experience physical enjoyment, so her presence is real. More than real: it is obsessive. I’m obsessed by my love for her.

I love being in love. It makes me fly to the end of the Universe. It makes me pleasantly aware of the beauty in the world. It makes me friend of the joy around me. It makes me accomplice of the delightful vices and virtues of life. It gives me a generous share of the gorgeousness around me.

How couldn’t I love her? She drives me to the… yes, she gives me everything she’s got. That’s everything for me. She moves in a lusty manner; pushes it up, then down; she swings around and at the end releases happiness with her exotic lines of nymph. She’s exotic. Her intonations involve me into harmony with her performance. She makes me scream; I want to scream; I will scream: I love you! Yes, I love you. I love you, music!

But I cannot scream. No, I can’t and I won’t. No, I need to hear the last notes. I must hear all the notes. So, I’ll listen silently. I’ll keep my love inside for as long as it lasts. And secretly I’ll whisper into the deaf darkness of nights, “I love you, music, no matter who you are!”

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You can "love her" here.