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.

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