White Nights
on a book with 83 pages her name was mentioned 183 times. nastenka, nastenka, nastenka, how blind were you to not see something so colossal that stood in front of you with stars in hiseyes and love so deep in his heart it ate him from the inside out. did i finish the book or did the book finish me? did i finish the movie or did it actually ruin my entire week and now i can't study despite my exams being in less than two months. it's the thought that we we will never love anyone like dreamer loves nastenka, and even if we do love someone, like her they will remain unaware because that is love. it's blind and it's invisible and no one realises it till it's too love. there is such a fine line between love and indifference. there is an even finer line between love and soul-crushing agony. the worst part is nastenka didn't love the dreamer like he loved her, of course, that's obvious, but isn't that just as sad? so sad to expect that you can love someone and be a fleeting moment of comfort when they, to you, is someone you can not breathe without, someone you see, everywhere, someone you can't help but want, need? "your hand is cold, mine burns like fire. how blind you are, nastenka." if love had been unconditional at all times; the agony, the misery and the happiness that comes along with it must have been such a blessing to feel and such a pleasure to have.