درباره‌ی آزادی او در عشق

There is this difference between feeling the love in the object of love’s face, and seeing a random beauty in a casual beautiful girl, and that's this that when you look at the loved one, you don't see only her eyes or the structure in which those eyes happen to be. you look at her alive soul, through those eyes she sees, by those hands she touch, and in that body she experiences. and it's certainly not her only. See, your eyes follow her like accompanying her, fear when she must fear, pain once the pain is there, like an extended body of yours. No not exactly that, since you see the difference with your body, you feel her freedom, as the freedom as you never had and never will have. and this is the point that love could be hate too, the unattainable freedom of the loved one. All these dreams in daily life, all these real pictures, would collapse when some weakness about you, sth you hate about yourself here, could be known by her. The freedom which in the first place shapes her living soul, here, on the other hand, will find that weakness.
And by then you understand you just don't deserve to be around? No. You can not see your weaknesses directly, since the loved one was the whole world in which you reside for these moments, there is no place to hide anymore.