I never understood how it happens: it seems that men are completely low-emotional beings, from whom one should not expect a vivid manifestation of feelings, or in general at least some manifestation of feelings associated with love or falling in love. At the same time, while driving, many emotions are often over the edge, but I'm not talking about that. I have already said that no one has ever been in love with me, maybe someone was, of course, but I never found out about it, did not see the manifestations of the emotions of a man in love or loving towards me. I remember my ex-husband cried real tears when he realized that I would definitely not be back. But this was not out of love, we were together enough years to show it somehow, rather it was the bitterness of losing something of our own and familiar life. Yes, I saw the emotions of a man in sex or after it, and, of course, it is very important and pleasant to feel the emotional return in this area of ​​life, without this, too, no matter how and where. But a woman, she's not about sex, even when she adores it, she's about something else. Realizing that his emotions after or during sex mean only that the man was good, and in no way connected with feelings for her, this is not enough for a woman. At least to me, but I doubt that I am any kind of exception.


Since it turns out that it is men who write absolutely amazing love songs, poems that take your breath away or give way to your knees, how accurately do they convey their own feelings in the soul, write stunning novels or make extraordinary films? .. After all, they are probably they know what they are talking about in their works, they have lived and felt all this on themselves, that is, they also feel it, and we are not so different! Perhaps I am so unlucky that I never felt this, or the authors of those songs, poems, novels or films never fell in love with me, probably there are even some reasons for this, but today I understood exactly what I want to have a superpower ... I would like to touch a person's wrist, and he would feel exactly what I feel. Not from myself to me, I don't need anything fake, I just want him to understand exactly what I feel: how the soul is torn from the desire to see, communicate, touch, or that bitterness squeezing the chest from the realization that the happy end will not happen, or that insane explosion of happiness, covering at the moment of meeting.


It is very sad that God did not endow me with the talent to write those amazing songs, poems, novels or make films, because this is the very superpower that, in general, would not change anything.