I really liked the way the story started, a discussion on architecture, a love story that ends abruptly, music, introspection - sometimes a bit heavy but lulling. The second part, however, where Kyra goes into psychoanalysis is lumbering and narrow. As she explores love, it's limited to romantic love with vague allusions to other types of love. Although an attempt to rethink the process, the author locks herself into structure, the very opposite of what she wants: it lacks expressiveness, newness, wholeness. I lost interest after that; it just became another story. It's a shame because the novel has a strong foundation. ( )