Portugal... My heart carries you Always...

At times like this my Portuguese pride comes racing out, at the worst times, there you feel your strength of a nation, of a vision, of a simple reality of being...
The simplicity of being Portuguese, the people of "brandos costumes", as someone translated "gentle ways", and I add the people who feel too much and can't let it show. We win together, and lose together, one nation, different people but one vision, one understanding of the human soul...
We suffer, thus we know that we feel, in our hearts, in our flesh, in our bones, this belonging to something greater than ourselves...
It sounds so... I know, yet it is how it is, I feel the sorrow of a nation in soul, this makes saddens me, but I do feel my nation in a way like no other, maybe this is a cliché of any nation, yet for me when I see our symbols I am filled with pride, not for what we've been, but for what I know we can be... On days like these, the Portuguese soul is released, and its grandeur is felt, my heart is with my football team, we lost a game, but I never felt more Portuguese, and for that you have my eternal gratitude...
Portugal is not just a place, it is a way of being, remember this, and the "fado" of a game matters not for those who truly love their country for what is... A place for souls that are meant to feel more...