Nous désirons passionnément qu’il y ait une autre vie où nous serions pareils à ce que nous sommes ici-bas. Mais nous ne réfléchissons pas que, même sans attendre cette autre vie, dans celle-ci, au bout de quelques années, nous sommes infidèles à ce que nous avons été, à ce que nous voulions rester immortellement.

How can we not say that we are the same, when we are living, as it is (but not exactly so) in that song, without something, we almost deemed as something without which we couldn't live. The song says: "It was all what I wanted, but no I'm living without." Maybe it was not all what we wanted, but all what we remembered at that time. And, indeed, what is the quality and maybe one of the most attractive prerogatives (?) of love? It makes us forget the world, and with it all its nuisances (visible or invisible). We imagine that we love and are loved, we imagine, that at last we are free, only to realize, and very soon, that we are as tightly bound as ever, even more so. And if we are "happy enough" and happy still and have strength to feel love towards the one for whom we felt it, and hence, if the world has not reinstated itself, now, new world is being created by love, after initial stages of it, and new beings inhabit it, and new nuisances. Maybe this is pointless and false reasoning of a machinery mind, which by itself connects the words and ideas it read or thought understood. But the fact remains that after love begins to work, step by step we are substituted by a different being, which has a different viewpoint on the world, that is, a viewpoint in which the eyes are the supposed eyes of that creature we love, or think we love, and we don't know if this viewpoint is better than our viewpoint, because we don't have our viewpoint any longer.