welcome friends of steemit today I offer you this love letter made from my own handwriting, based on a dramatic love, in which many people like me, have lived it, I hope you like it. but before I announce a brief information.

The drama was invented in ancient Greece with the aim of making clear the inevitable nature of certain events in our lives. Episodes on which we have no strength, which come to us regardless of what we want or what suits us. And that also sounds like love to us.

And although the drama seems to have very negative connotations at the moment, I define dramatic loves based on their original concept, which may well be a tragedy, like a comedy or, more frequently, a tragicomedy. Because there are few intense loves that have not passed a comic period, another tragic and, finally, have ended in a tragicomedy from which we can extract the positive and the negative.

To give us an idea of what a dramatic love really means, we can think of all those romantic songs, those couplets that sang the greatest, the Jury, where any feeling stopped being mundane and everyday to become piercing. And since I love writing poems or love letters, in my blog I could not miss this dramatic love, written from my own hand.

¡Hello my life!

Because you are my life, or who gives you meaning, who comes to be the same; because I live for you, because I die without you or because I can not live without you; that's why I'm writing this letter to you, because I need to tell you that I love you as much as I love you. And I need to have you close as well as breathe. I remember each day those happy times in which your hug gave me security, in which your kisses gave me confidence and in which your caresses gave me life. Those times in which your gestures told me that you loved me, that you never intended to leave and that, always, always, we would share this happiness. But those gestures were lies, kisses, caresses, whispers and even hugs were a lie. And I did not realize until it was already late, until you had already started to lie to another and you just let me see the reality: that you are incapable of loving. And the truth is that he preferred to live in illusion; even if it was a lie. Now that I know the truth, now that I know that you have never loved me, that you will never love me because you can only love yourself, it turns out that nothing has changed. That I'm still dying for you, that I'm still waiting for you every day, that I need you as always and that I love you even more.