Am I the last romantic? This is a very tough question for me! I
remember the times when love seemed more pure and diaphanous. A boy saw
a girl, he liked her, she smiled shamefaced at him, giving him hope.
Desire was fed by hope, and time was the perfect cook for a romantic
love recipe. It all continued with peaceful thoughts at night, while
looking at the stars and making wishes, sweet love wishes! Days were
passing, the boy can’t get his thoughts back on the track, charmed by
his beautiful princess. Another glimpse, a few days after, would keep
the fire burning, until the boy can’t take it anymore, and moves to the
next step:a romantic poem and roses, maybe even chocolate candy.
Beautiful! I’m not going to exaggerate this, by inserting a balcony in
this act.. But let’s admit it, those were the good old days of love and
poetry.
Today, everything seems so empty and meaningless. The media is always
showing us more and more violence and sex, pushing love away from our
lives, replacing it only with desire. Now women are more and more
interested of the bank account and limousine the boy drives, and
probably would take poetry and candy as an offence or as unimportant;
they would very much rather an expensive perfume or necklace. The boy,
on the other hand, doesn’t have that shiver anymore in his voice, he’s
a stable person that shouldn’t let loose his lack of confidence. He’s
driving his luxury car, dressed up after the latest fashions, perfumed
and everything, with sunglasses to give himself a superior attitude. He
goes to her home, gives a horn and then takes his partner to the most
expensive places to impress her. And he probably succeeds in most of
the times. Very beautiful, some may say.
Well, I am very sorry, but I am one of the fellows who won’t give into
this „new era love”. I stick with the poetic love that used to be once
upon a time, the incurable romantic. You may contradict me if you wish,
everybody’s free to have an opinion, but I remain the last mohican
stuck to the idea that love and poetry come together as a blessing, and
shouldn’t be torn apart.
