How much do you love me?

Because love was there before us.

Write it down.
"You're not alone" is the most misleading sentence I've ever heard. I don't remember sharing with you the energy that flows through my body. I don't remember you being able to express what I feel with only the rightness of your words as a tool. I don't remember being assured that your hands have the power to influence my lift-up heart, my shortness of breath, my sagging legs or my tummy turning around.

I know you tried, and you're trying. I know your wishes, that of sharing our energies, that of explaining the inexplicable, that of giving full powers to your hands when they catch mine. These wills, which are lies that I have sometimes clung to, blind as a truth, to avoid having to grow up.

Of course I'm alone.
You too, by the way, it's the common lot of humans. And love does not avoid anything. It's not a tragedy, it's part of the beauty of life.

You are every person I have loved, you are every person I love and all the others who, with even more love than we know, make the beauty of this life.

Because love was there before us, we don't need it to happen.
Say, how much do you love yourself?