The perceptions and insights into the love story are fundamentally fragmentary and incoherent. And lovers are always a jumble of thoughts and words. Thoughts are often fleeting.
The throat trembles as these inexplicable words are uttered with a perceived hazy desire, an impulse. However, from a linguistic point of view, when I keep on talking about the pain of longing, I am actually in an absurd situation, where she is not present, so she is the object of discussion, and in my confession she is the addressee, so she is present. This oddity leads to an untenable present tense, and I am caught in the middle of two tenses with nothing to do, both the tense describing the object of the talk and the tense directed at the addressee. Both, you are far away, which is why I am despondent, and you are in sight, because I am speaking to you, and this tricky definition of tense is precisely the kind of trace situation that is anxious and unsettling.
A story is remembered either because what it portrays is too far away from us or too close to us.
And this story is perhaps the latter. When love stories are deconstructed into a series of emotional flows and component summations, when the dichotomies of love stories are dissolved and indulged in a linguistic utopia without central meaning and frenzy. What is love, in this way this is a rather interesting structural perspective.