Love dimensions

Ever since our childhood we are being called the best. Best in everything: painting, jogging, making airplanes and writing poems. The reason for this encouragement lies in the fact that our parents are trying to make us better by what appreciating us for what we already did. We call it love, they call it parenting.
My own experience has always been less reassuring. My parents, even though being the best parents in the world for me, never stated that I was the best sonet writer or the brighest music student or the most beautiful and charming model. It was right on the contrary  and I have felt discoureged and unmotivated no matter how good I was at that.
It was more than that. Everyone knows this least desired feeling of being compared to someone who is "better, smarter and brighter". Well, it doubled in my case where 
I have been competing with two older brothers, who were, are and will be better for my parents.
And its not just because they are older, but because of the stereotype they live up to. In my country a girl is a half of a man. No matter how hard she tries to be like her brother or just a man, she will be underestimated just because she is a not expected to be better than him.
A man in the patriarchal society has to always be faster, smater and simply better. And a woman either naturally stupid or she has to pretend she lacks brains.
And here is the question: What if I am better, faster and smarter and I realise it despite all the bullshit I have to come across?
Should I just hold my mouth clenched (shut) or speak up and say that I am better?
Easy example: whatever my older brother says my parents always listen to with  care and consideration, even though it might be a useless talk about his hunting/fishing which bores me to death.
Whatever I say, no matter how interesting and funny it is, no one listens, or they make me feel like a complete idiot by saying its irrelevant and not worth talking about.
Do they love me? According to my emotions after the time spent with them, NO.
But thats family. Here's another story. Boyfriends. What about them keeping the track of who they are actually dating. I actually had only one boyfriend who was genuinly interested in what I was doing with my life, bothering about me, giving me advice and praising my accomplishments.
He knows that I am particularly thankful to him for that, since this is something that appears to be missing in relationships.
Why when we date someone we dont show much interest in things which might be the vital source of living for this person?
So, my question is: when we love someone, how well do we know the person we "love"? Can you love someone just for who that person is, what he has achieved? Can we truly appreciate people for who they appear to be without trying to modify them?
And if you dont know/not interested who your beloved is, what do you love then? Do you love yourself in love? Or maybe you love the LOVE?

Martini on a Saturday night

In the world where my best friend is the laptop can I hope to find something more "real" than that? A brilliant home-made Versace without a flaw or a Johnny Depp black-and-picture without a hint of an unnaturality? Can I make anything real in the world where people screw without love and then marry without sex? Can I be an old-fashioned girl still believing that somewhere out there in the darkness of this misery I will find something worth living for?
Sometimes I ask myself the question which makes me wonder: are there any bounderies? Does all my life have to go straight according to the plan once made up in my head: the ONLY one, a great home, job, possibly kids and opera every Friday... Maybe not? Maybe the plan can maintain some alterations like marrying a homosexual friend, adopting a kid from China and watching opera on TV on Tuesdays?
Stiil thinking whether its better to believe in dreams and try to make them happen or make the most of what I can.
Great nights with fabulous friends in Kassel! No future! Only NOW!

At times....

At times like this all I can think about doing is smoke, drink and see cheap people... At times like this all I could think about in the past was riding horses, listen to a hell a lot of Sinatra and rearrange things in my apartment.
By now all I am doing is listen to Sinatra restless and unsure if it was just another "lesson" or it was a part of the "destiny" plan.
When your heart is dead you cant make your body live the way it used to. 
My heart was turned into a stone. My life turned into a turmoil. What else do I need? I have reached the point everyone reaches in life - I crashed it spectacularly into pieces. And what is left is emptiness and no place to go and no one to turn to and say the last good-bye and the last I really love you.

L'intimita

One of my favourite French novels narrates about a young woman lost in the middle of Paris where her life takes a strange route as she follows her mother who had disappeared from her
life years ago. That takes her life in a strange complication of events which all end up with her having found a man who seemingly was as sensetive, refined and out of the world as she was which brought them together and twisted the plot of the novel.
Another French piece of art, called "Amelie" actually made me cry in the end, having pictured
the most romantic story of all ever filmed.
What do they both have in common? Well, me and my falling in love pattern, which was so beautifully presented in both of them. This certain pattern has also shaped my own fantasy of meeting 
someone special, someone dreamy, sensetive, obsessed with something artistic, smart but 
humble and romantic.
A beautiful pattern brought up by romantic dreams of sharing something very special together, something no one else would understand. Its a desire of having those special intimacy strings which are just there and none of us has to fake the real intimacy, which is just there when you meet the right person.
How does it make you feel to meet someone like that and be able to share THE SACRED without
the fear of being misinterpreted or judged?

Love and being loved is truly worth living.