We were opposed, averse and differentiated. I liked jazz. She loved rock. I played the piano. She would play matchbox in situations in which it would be funny. I had two cats, and she blistered allergy. I was crazy about the beach. She was scared of the daylight. I went to the theater on fridays. She went to nightclubs.
[I met her unexpectedly, she appeared in front of me and I could not contain the involuntary smile that came into me. She had a shampoo-commercial hair, black and curly and a Carmen's glance - how cliche wouldn't that be in any other situation ]
As I wrote poems, she would solve mathematical equations - indeed, she studied engineering. I asked her to explain me by equations why we were together. She did: Romantic man + beautiful woman = Love. Despite being awful in mathematics, I knew how this equation was wrong. Indeed, our love did not make sense at all.
We fought like dog and cat, we disagreed on everything. As I read Neruda, she solved Sudoku. I liked Fellini, Almodovar, Bergman. What about her. She would only go to the movies for an American foolish comedy. But ultimately, when she touched my neck, I shuddered, rolled my eyes from the sides, and melted into love speeches.
After all, you do not love someone for liking Miles Davis, going to the theater, or because they know how to appreciate modern art.
You love someone for being irrational.
[I met her unexpectedly, she appeared in front of me and I could not contain the involuntary smile that came into me. She had a shampoo-commercial hair, black and curly and a Carmen's glance - how cliche wouldn't that be in any other situation ]
As I wrote poems, she would solve mathematical equations - indeed, she studied engineering. I asked her to explain me by equations why we were together. She did: Romantic man + beautiful woman = Love. Despite being awful in mathematics, I knew how this equation was wrong. Indeed, our love did not make sense at all.
We fought like dog and cat, we disagreed on everything. As I read Neruda, she solved Sudoku. I liked Fellini, Almodovar, Bergman. What about her. She would only go to the movies for an American foolish comedy. But ultimately, when she touched my neck, I shuddered, rolled my eyes from the sides, and melted into love speeches.
After all, you do not love someone for liking Miles Davis, going to the theater, or because they know how to appreciate modern art.
You love someone for being irrational.
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