Travelling in times of Covid.

Love is a lot like travelling. It suggest you enter someone's heart as you enter a country, through immigration and customs. Border crossed by simple conversations . Step by step.  Gradually you start putting that person above yourself and you tend to feel you're doing it out of love. Heh! naivety.  And when you do that, you give away a piece of yourself to that person. A part that completes you. If that person returns the feelings, the emotional equilibrium is balanced. If not, you feel exposed and disappointed. Because you dared to be naked. Your soul harden itself while your mind takes a flight. You get closer to yourself. You are sad and the deeper this sadness penetrates the greater you bond with your inner reservoir. Sorrow is an important ingredient, you see? That piece of yours that went missing when you're in love, poets say its heart. If it weren't for aesthetic reasons, it could have very well been liver or intestine too. But no, heart. Just below the sternum, left to third and fourth rib cage. Cage for a reason you begin to feel. After first romantic disaster you come out as a smarter person or so you think. And then it happens again. You never learn. You make new mistakes until you lose the innocence of naivety.