“He is not as good as you, though I love him more than you.”
Perhaps, some lovers are not meant to be held; some lovers are not meant to be beneath the same soul, tied up together in a red string; but perhaps, some lovers are meant to be longed for beneath the luminous sky during the white nights in summer, just like what Fyodor Dostoevsky wrote in White Nights.
“... White Nights sold more than 100.000 copies in The UK in 2024. It is an angsty story of impossible love, run through with a characteristic Dostoevskian gloom.” — The Guardian