“I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as certain dark things are loved, secretly, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom, and carries hidden within itself the light of those flowers, and thanks to your love, darkly in my body lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where, I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I know no other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you; so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.”
"To me fearless is not the absence of fear. It's not being completely unafraid. To me, fearless is having fears. Fearless is having doubts, lots of them. To me, fearless is living in spite of those things that scare you to death. Fearless is falling madly in love again even though you've been hurt before. Fearless is walking into your freshmen year of high school at fifteen. Fearless is getting back up and fighting for what you want over and over again even though every time you've tried before, you've lost. It's fearless to have faith that someday things will change. Fearless is having the courage to say goodbye to someone who only hurts you even if you can't breathe without them. I think it's fearless to fall for your best friend even though he's in love with someone else. And when someone apologizes to you enough times for things they'll never stop doing... I think it's fearless to stop believing in them. It's fearless to say, "You're not sorry," and walk away. I think loving someone despite what people think is fearless. I think
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Comments 36
I love you as certain dark things are loved, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom,
and carries hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I know no other way of loving but this,
in which there is no I or you;
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.”
Sonet 17 by Pablo Neruda
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