Das Confissões

De vez em quando me agarro a falas da ficção que ficam remoendo por dentro, seja por amiração ou mesmo por identificação. Já falei inclusive num post velho que vivo repetindo falas do cinema de forma aleatória no meu dia a dia. Algumas não são para repetir, são para refletir. Uma delas é uma óbvia confissão de How I Met Your Mother:

“Actually, there is a word for that. It’s love. I’m in love with her, okay? If you’re looking for the word that means caring for someone beyond all rationality and wanting them to have everything they want no matter how much it destroys you, its love! And when you love someone y-you just don’t stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes, or call you crazy, even then, especially then! Y-you just don’t give up, because if I could give up, if I could just take the world’s advice and move on and find someone else that wouldn’t be love! That would be some other disposable thing that is not worth fighting for… But that is not what this is. So please, can I have the locket?”

Romântica, eu? Nego até morrer!