“We both lost something. You lost me and I lost time." (The Edge of Love)
Versione italiana: Unlove-able: la distanza dall'amore
Of all mental illnesses, the inability to love or at least celebrate love when it comes along is perhaps the most squalid and lethal. It slowly kills the feeling even in the most romantic and passionate person, through a steady stream of disappointments and frustrations that reveal a fearful, immature and, above all, selfish heart.
Any relationship failures or romantic disappointments that the unlovable person may have experienced are not enough to justify the grim malice with which he or she crushes the passion, enthusiasm and momentum of the new partner who unwisely enters their life.
It is true that there are love stories that start with fireworks and fade away just as quickly. But at least there were fireworks. Then there are stories that start softly and ignite along the way, becoming more and more beautiful as memories grow and complicity increases.
Finally, there are stories that start badly, continue worse and end as if they never existed. They leave no trace, except regret, recrimination and bitterness. There are stories that do not make history.
Unloveable: one of the worst curses that can befall a poetic and ardent soul. The unloveable seems to want to form a relationship, but always has one foot out the door. They are dry, they don't bring flowers, they don't write poetry, they don't send songs. If you ask them why, they reply, “It's childish”, boasting a snooty maturity that is nothing more than a whitewashed tomb of emotional immaturity seasoned with arrogance and haughtiness.
Meanwhile, however, they chat and send hearts to their exes, even taking their mobile phone to the toilet. They look at other men/women when they go out with their partner, in such a way as to embarrass them for being by their side. They take a “break” from their main relationship as soon as the opportunity to “try” other experiences arises. Once they have tasted the novelty, they return, apparently repentant, to the partner they had put on standby, while secretly resuming their hunt on social media or elsewhere.
Then the unloveable person is surprised when the other person stops calling them “love”, no longer sends them good morning messages, or no longer posts their photos on social media. They don't seem to remember that on New Year's Eve, Valentine's Day, or any other occasion important to their partner, they thought they could get away with a quick phone call, denying their presence and exposing the other person to ridicule and humiliation.
To this type of person, whom a friend of mine would call “emotionally constipated”, life presents the bill like a Guttalax, if only from a spiritual point of view. In fact, they fall into oblivion, not to mention somewhere else, because they have failed to touch the soul either in themselves or in those around them.
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