Blue Valentine

It's as if someone has played a cassette tape from the past - slightly noisy, with the warmth of someone else's breath between the lines. The voice sounds as if it's coming from afar, like an echo of the first evening of love, where the light from the shop windows and the electricity under the skin still tremble. Love here is not gentle - it cuts like shards of glass on the floor, and yet it pulls you in like a magnet. It becomes hot, then icy, but it is impossible to break away - even when it is clear that this attraction has long since gone off the rails. It's just that the heart is playing its soundtrack again, where pain is also a way to remember.