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.
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