When a writer falls in love with you, you become immortal

In 2008 I met this sweet and cute guy — that for privacy’s sake, I’m calling him John. Everything about him was adorable. When I got into his car, he said, “I don’t know much about Madonna, but I know you like her so I made a playlist with random songs of her”. Well, the first track was “Drowned World / Substitute for Love” — ironically, my favorite song. I’ve met him during one of the dozens breakups off my first/chaotic relationship that lasted — surprisingly — 10 years. I easily felt in love with him, but I wasn’t mature enough to deal with such a strong feeling, so I’ve made a big fool of myself.

I’m writing my first book for the last months, and days ago I decided to go through some of the poems and song lyrics I wrote between 2008 and 2012. Most of them were about an impossible love, an almost utopic love. It turns out that John, the fiction character in my book, was born back in 2008, while I was writing my first lines about the real “John”. It’s amazing to see how someone or some feeling can walk through longs periods in our lives, almost unconsciously, and we don’t even notice it.

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