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Florentine Love
Anyone could fall in love in Florence.
The charming buildings and the grass hills surrounding the city make up a harmonic combination of simplicity and comfort. The hot weather warms the heart, and the expressiveness of Italians opens it up. It's a complete setting of an exciting atmosphere – a place where anything could happen.
If you don't fall for someone, at least you fall for Florence itself.
For a certain girl wandering through the tight streets, her eyes diverting into observing the cafés and the heavens above, that is the only option left. At least she's loving for the very first time. She could have loved someone… if her special someone had permitted it; and if circumstances had permitted it, too.
You can't be in love if it isn't reciprocal.
It's a simple fact, yet it is difficult to come to realize it; and even harder to accept it. Sometimes you're just so stuck onto someone, and the idea of have about that person. You're willingly up to devote yourself, your time and your efforts to turn that person special in your mind into someone special in reality as well.
Love can't be a mere idea.
Love also can't be pre-determined. Things can't simply just be your way. It sucks, yes, but it wouldn't be sincere that way. As long as you don't martyrize yourself for someone else's lack of intensity, it is completely normal to wish that someone acted otherwise. However, you can't force the person to go along your plans; that's something you can only wish for.
Hope for a start comes before love.
Love is not a momentary escape, but rather a continuous new reality to replace an old, boring one. It should be, from the core, a more magical version of common things – the sky is more blue, the sun shines brighter, the grass is greener, the colors of the buildings are more vivid, the weather is more appealable.
Just like Florence.
The girl's jet-black hair and pearl-white skin contrast drastically with the colors of her surroundings. Finishing her chocolate and hazel gelato, she fixes her two ponytails and continues her walk, distancing herself from the noise made by fellow tourists. The skirt of her light beige dress gently flies from the breeze the Chinese girl creates by walking.
Frustration is, in essence, contrast.
The battle in between what could have been and what is actually is. The conflict of what it could be and the odds of it becoming true. Your inner discomfort on whether you should be caring less or more about your issue. Your reflection if it is indeed an issue, or just something you're overthinking about.
Having another gelato would be nice.
Xiaoyu sits down on the grass of a cozy-looking park, situated far away enough from the more hectic spots of the city. With both eyes closed, she slowly breathes in and then breathes out. She maintains her head upwards as she opens her eyelids, serenely watching as the sunset creates more colors at the sky every minute that passes… until night falls. It's been a thoughtful vacation.
Having a heartache in Florence really sucks.
Author's notes: 525 words. After reading a book, I was inspired to organize some thoughts that have been on my head for a few months now. I threw a random Xiaoyu in the middle of it just as an excuse to publish this here.
