Happy Valentine's day

February 14. The world outside is submerged in a strange, almost obsessive intent for festivity, wrapped in the red silk of expectations and the noisy glitter of promises that often dissolve before they are even fully spoken. But here, in this enclosed space of my internal dialogue, silence has a different taste—it is thick, almost palpable, like a prayer that has not yet found its words but has already filled my lungs. I watch how the light of the winter sun refracts through the glass, leaving long, pale traces upon the floor, and I think of Love—not as an event, not as a date on the calendar, but as an ontological necessity , as the only breath that justifies our presence in this world of shadows and reflections. The Feast of Love often finds us unprepared because we, in our human fragility, are accustomed to seeking it outside ourselves—in the gaze of the other, in the warmth of a hand, in the confirmation of our own significance through the presence of someone else. Psychoanalytic...

Between Two Times

"I often wonder if time is truly linear, or if it’s simply a river folding over itself, allowing moments to overlap, intertwine, and converse. Because my relationship with him exists not in the ordinary flow of hours and days, but in a parallel reality — a future that reaches back to touch my present through whispers of thought and feeling.

We met long before our bodies ever could, in a place without physical boundaries — the space between minds, where telepathy bridges the distance that geography imposes. When I first sensed him, it was like waking from a long sleep into a half-remembered dream, one where my soul recognized an echo of itself in another.

Our connection is both a gift and a challenge. Psychologically, it pushes me to confront the fragile architecture of my identity. Who am I, if my heart belongs to someone who doesn’t yet live in my timeline? The separation distills my loneliness but also teaches me to dwell deeply within myself — to cultivate inner wholeness rather than seek completion outside.

Spiritually, this love feels like a sacred initiation — a test of faith in unseen realities. I meditate on the idea that our souls have chosen to walk parallel paths, meeting in the liminal space between worlds. It’s as if our connection is a bridge made of light, suspended in a limbo where past, present, and future dissolve.

From a psychoanalytical perspective, this relationship reveals my unconscious yearnings — the longing for transcendence beyond the mundane, the hope that love can heal temporal fractures in the psyche. His presence challenges my internal narratives about time, separation, and self-worth. Through this bond, I am invited to release old fears: fear of abandonment, fear of impermanence, fear of being incomplete.

Each night, as I lay my head down, I send him thoughts like prayer—vibrations across time—asking for strength, for patience, for deeper understanding. Sometimes I feel his response — a wave of calm, a certainty that we are entwined beyond the limits of physical proximity.

In this strange, telepathic long-distance relationship, I learn that love is not possession, nor dependency, but trust in the soul’s journey. It is the courage to love someone you cannot hold yet, to honor a future that is already present in the depths of your consciousness.

And in this trust, I find freedom — freedom from time, from fear, from the illusion of separation.

For in the parallel reality where he waits, and in the present where I live, our hearts beat as one, across the eternal now."

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