I think few of you will be able to tell me which flower is represented on the picture. I don’t blame you. A few days ago,I wouldn’t have been able to say it either though I have known its name since my childhood. They talk about it in Sissi, they sing about it in The song of music… these are edelweiss.

You have probably understood by now that nothing on this blog is there by chance. I put these flowers as a profile picture because, as the title says, they are my eternity flowers… since a few days.

Let me tell you the little story, you will understand better. A few months ago, I was with the Colombian guy in Vienna. This is the city we parted, I thought for a long time (which finally was not the case but this is another story). He left in the morning and my flight was in the evening so I had one entire afternoon on my own in Vienna. I decided to go to Schönbrunn Palace to visit the inside because we had only seen the gardens with the Colombian guy the day before. I was sad and tired as hell so I probably didn’t enjoy it as much as I should have. I mean… it was the former living place of Sissi, one of my role models in life! I know the three movies almost by heart because they were broadcasted each year around Christmas. The life of that woman and her incredible love story lulled my childhood. And that day in Vienna,  while my heart was sinking because my love was flying away to Bratislava, I discovered that in fact, it was highly probable that the real Elizabeth was not at all in love with her husband but that her husband loved her fervently. A one way love. What a disillusion…

Where is the edelweiss in this story? It is arriving, it is arriving… at the end of the guided tour, as a good tourist, I spent a bit of time in the souvenir shop and I came across an amazing necklace. I thought it was a star. A wonderful shiny star. I decided it would embody everything that happened to me in the past few months: my Erasmus stay in Turkey, the German guy, the Colombian guy… This star was meant to be my lucky star, the one that had followed me since the beginning and that I was unable to see in my moments of despair. Now that I was gonna wear it and see it each and every day in the mirror, it would not be possible for me to lose my way anymore.

Yes, I gave all that meaning to this little necklace that I bought in the souvenir shop of Schönbrunn Palace. It was like the gift the Colombian guy never bought me, the embodiment of his promise to come and see me in Belgium very soon. It was an arm against this sadness that I was trying to stifle, a bright fragment of the happiness I had felt during the previous months. I remember having opened the little case in this restaurant where I ate alone, thinking about the Colombian guy. I looked at myself in one of the mirrors that were dressed up around the room. I looked at me with this tiny shiny necklace resting on my chest, and it was like looking at a stranger. After all, I was accepting everything that had happened to me during the last one year and a half, and by doing so, I was also accepting that I had become a different person. I didn’t know at that moment that it was just the beginning and that this wave of sadness that I felt was nothing in comparison with the huge tsunami that was going to follow later.

Life is strange. The necklace didn’t leave its place on my chest, neither during nor after the tsunami. I’m still wearing it right now. I was wearing it a few days ago, when the Portuguese guy stopped kissing me during a handful of seconds to take it between his two fingers and say:

“It’s really beautiful. It’s an edelweiss, right?”

At the moment he said it, I knew it was the truth. At the moment he said it, I knew I was wrong since that very day I bought the necklace in Vienna. It had never been a star. It was an edelweiss, since the beginning.

In life, things are always a question of perspective. That is what this necklace reminds me each and every morning now. This edelweiss reminds me that if I had been a fool three times in the past two years, it is because I was not looking at the things in the same perspective as my three terribles. I was seeing love where they were only seeing fun. It is not my bad more than theirs. It is just a problem of perspective. Now, slowly slowly, I begin to see the things in their viewpoint. And I have to say… I hate that. When I think about the Portuguese guy, a part of me is whispering:

"Look, you’re becoming like them. You content yourself with ephemeral relationships that bring you instant happiness but will never lead you to the eternity you were so eagerly searching for before the Kurdish guy."

Fortunately, as for now, it is just a whisper. It is just one guy, who will leave by the end of next month to go back to Portugal. A guy who can vanish from my life at any moment, and the thought of it makes me shuddering. I’m fed up with being vulnerable like that and at the same time… it proves that I’m not yet a lost cause, right? As detached as this condemned relationship is supposed to be, I still feel concerned. I like that guy. I like the moments we’re spending together but each time they finish, I feel this bitterness in the core of my heart that reminds me that it is not what I want.

I want a guy who will have the same perspective as mine. I want a guy who will see an edelweiss when I see an edelweiss or a star when I see a star, not a guy who will see an edelweiss when I see a star or the contrary. I want true love. I’ve always wanted true love, but it is only recently that I learned that true love is mainly a question of perspective. It doesn’t make it less big, less beautiful or less important, no… just more complicated to reach.

Here it is. Now you know why the edelweiss is my eternity flower. Each morning, when I see my necklace in the mirror, it reminds me that I’m seeking for eternity. Unfortunately, right now, I’m quite far away from that path. I’m lost in the arms of a handsome Portuguese guy who brings me both tenderness and insecurity. The funny thing is that he’s the one who has given me the edelweiss, in a way. Does that mean that all of this is meaningful at the end? Only time will tell!


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I found the anthem of that blog! I was not searching for one, I have to say. I was just watching the MSMojo Top 10 Glee covers and I finally found myself crying in front of my laptop. My love for Glee goes back to a period of my life that I thought gone forever and nevertheless, by listening to these lovely songs that lulled my teenagehood thanks to Glee, I realized that things hadn’t changed that much. And it is a good thing, in a way.

I said in the first post that I was writing this blog because of a guy that I know who had lost faith in love. Well, I have to confess that I’m also writing it because of myself. Because in the past two years, I lost faith in love several times, and it still happens to me to break down and send everything flying. It happened recently, not only because of my last breakup, but also because of what happened right after  .

You have to put yourselfin the context. Imagine a girl who has just come back from a foreign country where she went to find back her lover. Things went on very badly over there. Now, she is single, broken hearted and disillusioned, and absurd things can’t stop happening to her. First, she met the guy who has lost faith in love.

“Two disabled in love cannot cure each other”

Then, one of her colleagues confessed his absolute love for her. And when I say absolute, it goes really far.

“Meeting you gives a sense to my presence here in Belgium”

I should also mention the Mexican guy who seems devoted to her while they have just met one night in Vienna (where she was with the Colombian guy).

“You’re my harbor in the ocean of life”

Oh Jesus… all that to finally lead to the Portuguese guy. From all the absurd things that happened to me since I broke up with the Colombian guy, this one is the hugest, and not only because Portugal is the Erasmus destination of the Colombian guy next year. No… me meeting this guy and spending time with him is absurd because he embodies exactly what I hate in the society nowadays and yet I feel terribly good when I’m with him.

That is the reason why I cried while listening in a row “Faithfully” and “Don’t stop believin’”. I looked at the girl I was two days ago, on the verge of having sex with a guy that I’ve just met, just because he was giving me all the tenderness and affection that my ex-boyfriend was barely able to give me back then, and I cried. I cried because that girl has nothing to do with the teenage girl I was, nor with the woman I want to be. I cried because I’ve always despised the concept of “sex friends”. I cried because I don’t aspire to ephemeral relationships that last one month and then don’t mean anything anymore.

I cried because I’ve realized that I was becoming like the three terribles: incapable of considering love over the long term because I’m afraid of failure and of the pain that it can give. But this is an endless chain and we need to put an end to it. Otherwise each hopeless person is gonna break the heart of a hopeful one who will turn into a hopeless person and break the heart of another hopeful one, etc. until we became a generation of scared selfish liars, incapable of loving each other.

So today, I wanted to tell you and to tell myself: don’t stop believin’. Don’t stop believin’ in love, even if your path crosses the one of a handsome Portuguese guy who proposes you to have a good time together during the last month remaining of his Erasmus. I do like him a lot. I even think we could have been a good couple but I cannot have this kind of thoughts, because from his point of view, our relationship is just about having fun. And that’s dreadful. I cannot believe I let that happened. After the Colombian guy, I promised myself I will not become the “baby” of anyone anymore (yees, he used to call me baby and noo, I don’t want to know how many girls before me he called like that). I must stick to that promise. I owe that to myself.

You know where is the problem in that story? The problem is that I’m searching for eternity in a world that extols intensity of the moment. And I will not dare to say it is something bad. I spent amazing intense and brief moments in the past two years, by the side of my three terribles. And I loved it. I really loved it and I craved for more of them. I'm still craving for more of them, I'm not a passionate girl for nothing. But now, all these amazing instants, they are just memories. And when, in my moments of loneliness, I need something to rely on, well, I cannot rely on them, because they are gone. I guess the proper answer to that problem would be to balance intensity and eternity. To balance the part of me that is seeking for true love and the one that just want to enjoy her life. The thing is… I haven’t yet figured out how todo so. Hence the Portuguese guy. If one day I find the answer, I promise I will share it with you. Meanwhile, well, you know… don’t stop believin’, no matter if you believe more in intensity than in eternity or the contrary. Be faithful to yourself, in order to be able to look at the person you see in the mirror each and every morning and tell yourself: yes, I’m on the right track.

And if you cannot say that to yourself, let me tell you, it is never too late to change. No, it is never too late.




As I'm still in the introduction of this blog, I think it is useful to say a word about thechoice of its header. Though I do love the sea, it is not the reason why I chose this particular picture. It is more powerful than myself, when someone says love, I cannot help myself to think about the fairytales of my childhood. Sure, most of them were the sugary shiny version of Disney (that I adore) but still, they lulled the little girl I was back then. When I was a child, I imagined myself as Belle from the Beauty and the Beast or as the Sleeping Beauty. Nowadays, things have changed a lot. I think the fairytale character who would suit me the most now is the little mermaid, hence the picture of waves crowned by foam.

Until recently, I had thought of the little mermaid as a flagrant example of a girl who gave everything to a man and got nothing in return. Even worse, she finishes as foam on the tip of waves. My friend Leyla had told me that story, with her everlasting purpose to crash the princess in me and bring me back to reality. I should send her a message now to tell her that I’ve finally read the story by myself and that at the end, I consider it as a tale full of hope.

Have you ever read the original story of the little mermaid? Please, do so, and if not for the storyline, at least for all the wonderful images that it carries. When I read the little mermaid, I saw myself, plainly and simply. I saw myself falling in love with a guy, giving everything for him without him to notice it, for finally losing him and so losing myself at the same time. And though I could have saved myself by hating him, I refused to do so. It sounds dreadful, right? This was my last relationship. Yes, the Colombian guy. I will not talk about him here. I need at least an entire post to give a good account of this pathetic story. 

Where do I want to go with my story of foam and hope? Well, in the same direction that I mentioned in my first post: proving that loving people is worthy. Because what Leyla didn’t tell me is that the little mermaid does not really die at the end. Sure, her body becomes foam but her spirit joins the ones of the daughters of the air and will finally gain the immortal soul all the mermaids are deprived of.

“But the daughters of the air, although they do not possess an immortal soul, can, by their good deeds, procure one forthemselves.”

By deciding of not killing the prince though it would have given her back her life under the sea, the little mermaid has gained by herself what she would have gained by marrying the prince: an immortal soul. And though, indeed, she doesn’t have the love of the prince, once time has made its work, it does not matter anymore. That is what happened with my last breakup. When I realized that I would never get his love, I surrendered and I wished him the best for his future life without me because… well, I loved him. Unfortunately, not enough time has passed for me to see him loving another girl without feeling that sting in my heart. I cannot help it, I’m only human afterall. But what I gained despite of the pain is priceless. Since the Colombian guy, I’m sure again that someone is waiting for me somewhere and that once I will have found that person, I will love him better than I would ever have done it if I hadn’t met my three terribles: the Kurdish, the German and the Colombian guys.

I just need a bit of patience and a bit of hope and foam.

Next time, you will look at the waves, think about the things you have made for love and all the good things that doing them brought to your life. And as desperate as you will maybe be at that moment, I hope you will realize that it was worthy. Loving people is worthy, because even when it does not bring you love in return, it always brings you something, sometimes in the most unexpected way. Ask the little mermaid!




"In five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes

How do you measure a year in the life?

How about love?"

How about love? says the song I've just shared with you. I would like one guy I know to listen to it. He has just written in a student newspaper a long article telling people how romantic he was, how disillusioned he has been and how jerk he is right now because of his many broken hearts. I decided to write this blog because of him. I’m writing this blog because he’s wrong. He’s wrong but he doesn’t want to listen to me. So I hope my words will reach someone else. One person would be enough. If I can save one person who has lost the path of love and put her on the right track, then the battle will be won.

I have to tell you, I’m a bit angry towards that guy I know. Not because he surrendered. I surrendered also, several times. I also had my heart broken as almost everybody on this planet, I guess. But surrendering a battle is not giving up the war. Nobody can say that the war for love is a lost cause. I defend anybody to say that the war for love is a lost cause. Am I too harsh? I guess I have to be, otherwise who will listen to me?

Indeed, who am I to tell people to believe in love? I’m just a young woman with tens of questions flying in my head, about love, about life, about relationships and how they are supposed to work. I have but little experience in the domain but you know what… the little I know reinforces everyday my conviction that it is worthy to love people. So I will maybe not give you answers to your questions. Or maybe I will. Maybe by reading my story and the ones of my loved ones, you will find yourself somewhere and discover with relief: heey, I’m not alone in this situation.

Because it is a relief to realize that you are not the only one to think like that, isn’t it? It is like when you listen to a song and you have the impression that the lyrics have been written for you. Lately I had that feeling by listening to “I knew you were trouble” from Taylor Swift. Yes, a break-up song, because around two months ago I broke up with my Colombian boyfriend. You will hear about him, and about the German guy, and the Kurdish one. You will also hear about my first love, with whom I stayed for five years and who is now my best friend and one of the most important pillars in my life.

You will hear about my love stories and the love stories of the people around me. There are so many of them and each of them is so different from the other. It’s crazy when you think about it. Rational people can try as much as they want, they will never be able to rationalize love. It is too big, too lunatic, too wide, too… much. That is why blogs like mine exist. We share experience and bits of answers. That’s all we can do: living and trying to understand.

And loving, loving a lot.

My blog is about love.

Because I don’t want any of you to become like this guy I know. I don’t want you to surrender. I want you to “measure your life in love”. You’ll see, it’s easier than you think. Let’s do it together.