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About complicated naive international love

It’s about too much storytelling, about making up scenarios, about wandering from present to future with open eyes.
You see an old couple and ask yourself how did they manage to grow old together. Or did they just fake it? Maybe they found each other after being widowed. I’m alone now on this exact street and I ask myself, will I be holding someone’s hand when I’ll be this old? Will I still dream about sharing this exact moment with someone?
There is a cute guy smiling at me. Will we talk? Will he want to keep going down the road together and share his stories with me? Will we laugh about the same things?
Will I find the perfect Swedish guy on that amazing island called Sri Lanka? Or will I find the right guy that will move with me on any island?
A new super like on Tinder. He is probably very ugly. But that other guy I matched with, he seems to be into traveling. Will he write me a message?
Maybe I did lose a love story somewhere in Morocco because I wanted to get on that train.
Maybe my fling with that blue eyed Turk could have been more if I went to see him in Bucharest after we spent the summer in the States together.
Or maybe that kiss goodnight could have turned into amazing sex with the perfect Italian guy who happened to be born as my most compatible astrological sign.
That night under the shiny stars on a rock, right next to my favorite beach could have been the perfect medicine after that bad break up. Why did I listen to that annoying rational voice? I have no story to tell other than: he did not cheat on the girlfriend I did not know he had because I did not want to cheat on the boyfriend I no longer had.


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