I believe in a life where everything is lived with intensity.
Almost like an addiction. But a good one, maybe...
I think I have the right to say that my life has been lived with intensity.
For the last few years I've been living in a culture that is not mine, speaking a language that is not my first option, and learning new exciting things every day.
I learned to value new friends, and to value even more the old ones.
I enjoyed single and reckless life with amazing friends, and learned to consider them my family.
I drank 'till I couldn't anymore and I slept till my bones were sore.
I felt that I was surrounded by people and I felt lonely, but most of all, I felt loved.
I learned to put my family in first place and to love them even more by not being able to hug each one of them every time I wished to.
I developed a very sincere and beautiful relationship with my pictures, learning to show poetry in every shot, and knowing that there's always something to learn.
I forgave, and I got rid of walls that kept me from falling in love again and intensely.
I got married to a man that has always been the best friend, lover, companion; on the serious moments or on the silliest, a man that devotes himself to make me happy, and knows I gladly do the same.
I embraced a new loving family and learned to be proud to call it mine.
I laugh till my stomach hurts and I cry till the last drop slips down my face.
I am dedicating my sore fingers to the lousy notes on the guitar strings, but intensely, so I know that tomorrow might bring a beautiful melody.
I am bidding farewell to delicious and easy fast-food and saying hello to my health, and exercizing my energy down to the last drop.
All of it intensely.
Not sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing, all I know is that I.feel.alive.