Intensity

I am writing about this mostly because both my sister and this person, in a conversation between the three of us, spoke about the essential need to have and to nurture intensity in our relationships. But if that is the case, does everything need to be intense at the end of the day for it to be worth it?

It is the kind of question for which my short experience, although vast in certain things, is still insufficient to answer. So once again, I am forced to rely on my own thoughts.

Let’s begin by exploring different angles through which we can try to understand “intensity.” In friendships, I am not the biggest supporter of constant intense feelings. Something tells me that in the long run, trying to sustain something too strong or too intense goes against the natural law of friends drifting apart over time, even if the bond itself remains untouched because of our maturity.

Now yes, in relationships I believe the story is completely different.

I might be the worst person in the world to talk about this kind of thing, but I find an easy refuge in writing, especially on late nights when my eyes refuse to close. Knowing that this article goes straight to the Relationships Blog, and knowing deep down that I am probably still an incurable romantic, here we go, applying the title of this article to real life with a current example.

If you have been following these articles with some regularity, you may have noticed that they always end up talking about people who matter to me, people who make my writing easier to understand.

Let’s talk about a girl, someone who appeared at a time when I cannot clearly say what I want, but I can say what I do not want. I am not even sure if that makes sense.

Within the small amount of clarity I have about what I want, I know I want to share my life with someone who makes me feel different from the ordinary. Something intense running through me, something that makes me feel those nervous butterflies that are good. Intensity in everything: as partners, as best friends, and as lovers in the moments of love. It seems like a lot to ask, and as skeptical as I sometimes become, I live peacefully with the idea of having something close to that, but I do not close the door to the unknown.

That is how I met this person.

Someone whose story is much quieter than her voice, and I find it difficult to explain how enchanting she is. It is truly impossible to know someone through an image or through the first impression they give us, but she, beyond giving uncommon sensations, reveals herself to be the best part of my day.

It is about not holding ourselves back from feeling what lives inside our soul, and embracing what makes us happy. Without fear and without hesitation.

Intensity, however, is not only about passion. It is also about presence. It is the ability to show up fully, even on the days when we feel fragile or uncertain. It is the willingness to let someone see us without the armor we usually wear. Intensity is not measured by how loudly we feel, but by how honestly we allow ourselves to be felt.

And intensity also demands responsibility. When we choose to feel deeply, we must also choose to care deeply. We must be aware that our emotions touch others, that our presence has weight, and that our absence has consequences. Intensity is not a game of highs; it is a commitment to depth. It is choosing to build something that does not collapse at the first sign of fear.

Perhaps the most beautiful part of intensity is that it transforms the ordinary. A simple message becomes a spark. A shared silence becomes a safe place. A glance becomes a confession. When intensity is real, it turns moments into memories and people into chapters. And if we are lucky, it turns strangers into something that feels like home.

Intensity, after all, is not about living in a constant fire. It is about allowing ourselves to burn when it matters. It is the courage to feel deeply, to show up fully, to let someone touch the parts of us we usually keep guarded. Intensity is not chaos; it is presence. It is choosing to live with honesty, to love with clarity, and to let life move through us without pretending we are made of stone. If there is something I have learned, it is that intensity is not measured by how loud the feeling is, but by how true it is. And when it is true, it transforms everything it touches.