Nota Breve

Podia ter chamado este blog "Reflexões de uma luso-americana"; escolhi "Mensagem numa garrafa" por desconhecer o destino das minhas palavras e o impacto que estas terão. Será escrito nas versões de português de Portugal (pelos menos da maneira que me recordo) e de inglês americano.

This blog could have been named "Musings of a Portuguese-American"; I chose "Message in a Bottle" as I will never know who my words will reach and the impact they'll have on all those strangers. It is being written in American English, as well as in Portuguese from Portugal.

9 de abril de 2016

Romantic love


Romantic love is an addiction; when reciprocated it is a wonderful high, but when it’s a one-way-street it needs to be treated just like any other addiction: with detachment and distance.

Replacing the need for external validation (which leads to attachment) for internal fulfillment is key. This is often accomplished with gratitude and physical exercise, which drives up the dopamine system and gives you energy and contributes to optimism, focus and motivation; it also drives up some of the endorphins so that the pain goes away. On a personal level, my cures of choice have been: swimming; water aerobics; Tai-Chi and meditation. But any form of concentration to protect yourself from those never-ending thoughts of the idiot who rejected you, works.

As painful and sad as it may be, shred all previous correspondence; delete any vestiges of him that you may have stored in your computers; don’t write; don’t call; don’t show up; don’t set up encounters. Treat him with the aloofness he deserves.

Concentrate your attentions on those who have always taken time out of their busy schedules to be with you, to support you, and who have never stopped showing their love and interest for you. Forget those who have since stopped caring for you and replaced you with someone else, as they don’t deserve your tears.

Time does heal. I will never forget you, and I’m still entitled to my occasional relapses of rivers of tears, but these moments of deep sobbing, sorrow and regret no longer occupy the bulk of my existence. And as horrific as they are, the truth of the matter is that whenever I come out of the other end I am stronger, more peaceful and more grateful.

The opposite of love is not hate; the opposite of love is INDIFFERENCE – and that’s what you’re shooting for when you’ve been dumped. The day will come when that person who is camping in your head is out, and you wake up in the morning realizing that yesterday you never thought about him at all” - Helen Fisher (biological anthropologist and author of "Anatomy of Love")


Tu não me mereces.

Sem comentários:

Enviar um comentário

(Insultos e SPAM serão eliminados)