Love stories and Relationships | The Modern Edition

Love stories and Relationships

This is a real love story that took place a couple of years ago. And it sums up almost everything about the meaning and the feeling of love. But first, let’s take a look at the dictionary and the secret ingredients behind it.

“Love: according to Greek culture, there are four types: agape, phileo, storge and eros.”


means to love and give unconditionally. It means to care and to accept. It is the way, that a mother loves her children. A warm and I-will-always-be-there-for-you love.


it is the Greek word for friendship. It means to support someone and spend time with him, listening to him with no judging attitude. A platonic and companionship love.


this feeling is the combination of agape and phileo. It is the sweetest and most tender representation of love. Don’t-forget-to-take-your-jacket—or-you-will-cold love.


Eros is the romantic and sexual form of love. It is the most intense and passionate way of experiencing love. In English, it is translated to fall in love. Give-it-or-lose-it-all love.

“Love is the feeling of being selfless. It means to give and to take and to care.”

I have learned the hard way not to take anything for granted. My life has always being a war zone. Always being careful not to step on life’s bombs. Always being handy with guns of love. Try to point others, but never being pointed. Always me against all others.

What I have been taught is if you bleed, cry or love, then you are a loser. Probably I was born a loser. Probably too fragile for this world. Too sensitive. Too different…

And then she came and changed everything…

Her name was Qamar and she came to my life to teach everything from the beginning. She was an artist and she used to paint to make her statements to come true. She didn’t care about the judgment. She wasn’t afraid. She was an independent, strong woman with the courage of standing up her head. She was my paint teacher and friend.

I had to confront many times my family. For spending our money, to activities that would never pay off. That I waste my time and energy. For not “fighting”, not being there for them, for neglecting my duties and not supporting them.

And I, I… didn’t want to fight them, so I was trying to go with the flow and do whatever they want, as long as I could paint. That was the deal.

And as the time passed by I was more and more passionate about painting. It was probably Qamar’s love about art that empowered me. She used to say: “Art is our way to express our innermost feelings. Art is the door to heaven.”

When I was with her my inner demons were turned to angels. The rhythm of the voice, the movement of her hands and the devotion to art must be one of the hundreds of reasons that I fell in love with her.

It was my first and only time that I let my guard down. I didn’t care about anything or anyone. I’ve just waited for the time to pass, and the painting time to come. After our classes, we used to sit and discuss life’s purpose, about love and happiness. About the gift of life.

-Only love can set you free.

-Have you ever been in love? Like the actual true loving?

-Every day I am in love. In love with my art and paintings and life. I love to express myself and I love to challenge others. Probably this is my mark on the world…


-What about you? Have you ever been in love?

-No, I… I… My family ha…

-I didn’t ask about your family. I asked about you. Have you ever been in love?

-I don’t know. I never did…

-Well, then if you had fallen in love, then you would know… Love is power. It’s creation, it’s the gift of God to people.

-Do you believe in God?

-I believe in spirituality. “God” is just a name, like Qamar is for me. A mere name can’t identify who you are. You are not what you are taught to. You are what you choose to be…

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Littlie did I know that this phase would change my life. But couldn’t tell at that time. I was thinking about her all the time. And each time more vivid and passionate images were coming to my mind.

I had the fantasy of touching her hands, and kissing her soft lips, as we draw. I wanted to be there for her. To protect her and care about her. To be her guardian angel.

But that couldn’t happen. I was too afraid to tell that thought…

You are what choose what you want to be…

-Have you decided yet?

-Decide about what?

-If you prefer red or rose wine. Where is your mind darling?

-My mind… I mumbled… I prefer the red one!

-Did you know that many believe that red is the color of love?

-Yeah, I know.

-Well, they are wrong. Pink is the color of love.

-And what red represents?

-Red is the color of passion. It is the color that builds an intense and it can’t go unnoticed.

-Well, that seems to be your color! Intense and not unnoticed… Just like you!

-And if my color is red, then yours is blue.

-Why so?

-Blue is the color of calmness, inner power, and trust.

And we stared each other for a while. I was feeling so anxious, that I thought she could hear my heart beating so fast… And then she came closer to me and said:

-What’s in your mind? She said and she touched my cheek.


I grabbed my stuff, closed the door behind me without looking and started running.

When I was finally at home, my parents asked me where the hell I have been and that I smelled of alcohol. They told me I won’t go to the painting lessons again.

I locked up my door and started crying. That night, I didn’t sleep at all. I was thinking of her and how much of a coward, I was. Why did I leave?

Probably, the fear of getting hurt in a war would be always on my mind…+


After three days, I told my parents that I will go there just for the last time to pick up some things and I will never go there again… And I did.

-Hello and I am so sorry for the other time. I didn’t want to…

And she grabbed me and kissed me. Then she said…

-I was worried about you!

-Did you know? The whole time?


The next thing I remember is my bloody hands, a stable, constant noise in my ears and a wrecking house.

-Qamar? Qamar? Where are you? What is happening?

That morning it was the last morning I saw Qamar. And as I was always afraid, I was in the middle of a war zone. And I was hurt…

My name is Maya, I am from Syria and that was my story of love. And my question to you is: What would you do for the sake of love?

By Ntina Paitaridou
Follow her blog to read more such lovely articles

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