Notes on the perils and inevitable rewards of losing oneself in somebody
by Christos Polydorou
It alarmed me to discover I was an amorous being. Till 22 I considered myself a back up dancer at best. And so there was the valley.
The lover remains an enigmatic surface of reflection, emptiness, and erotic revelation.
Is love always a losing game? I wanted to be original in love but ended up a cliché.
All I ever wanted was to lose myself in somebody; I ought to have also stipulated that I would have wanted to come back.