Take a chance on love

If I am here tonight writing is not to talk about how easy was everything when you were here, not even to say something about that little boy who smiled me yesterday. Today I want to complain, I want to protest for this situation that surrounds us, this crisis of love. Why do we prefer our pride to the person whom we love? Why do we deny that our happiness is caused by his smile and not any other thing that which makes us shine today like ever?  There is not anything sadder as that we take for granted that this person knows that we are not surprised by the Sacre Coeur because by his side any monument looks like an unsuccessful attempt of imitating his beauty. The customs to say " I love you " unexpectedly is lost and we prefer keeping quiet. The songs speak about broken hearts, hearts turned in dust that will never be the same. Love shames us , love is fear. We can't stand the idea of allow someone loves us, of love anybody. We are afraid that someone breaks our heart playing with it, losing it under the skirt of another person. We do not trust in anybody because we don't do it in ourselves, in our capacity to say "this is the end" when the love kills more than it cures. This crisis of love is provoked by the disenchantment. There isn't Marios Benedettis whose strategy is that some day they don't know how, nor with what pretext that finally we need them, there isn’t Nerudas who sing 20 poems of love and a song of despair. We must encourage again the love, feel proud to love, of wanting, or simply of estimating. We must say so loud that the love makes us believe in impossible things. Please, love must be worth once again because if not … every man for himself.