sábado, 25 de julho de 2015

• Santa, I want a learjet

Every time that you let go you are over there, feeling lonely… It hurts me. My heart starts to bleed a little.

I’m over here, lonely too. But not as lonely as you may be. I have my dear ones close to me. You don’t. And I’m more used to be lonesome. For much more time than you by now. It has been years for me, not just months.

You say you hate small talk. So do I. It’s hard to find someone to whom we, you or me, can feel comfortable and interested on talking with.

I was lucky to having been found a few good souls with whom I have been feeling not so alone. All along these almost five years after me and my ex-wife having break up, I have been experiencing like having some companionship. By the same way we met, online-made acquaintances.

I have gained several new good friendships. With some I have even jumped to the next level. I have met them in real life. But with no one I have had more than a fine friendship. With none I allowed myself to start dreaming of more than that. And I think I finally know why today. Because of what you make me be awaken to.

I haven’t allowed myself to start dreaming of a life together with some of my good friends that I could well turn out to love one day because… None of them was or is a dreamer like I am. Or you are. Dear…

None of them was or is a truly free spirit like I am. Or you are, girl.

You told me this afternoon you were reading this blog, once more. Going back to things that I have written all these years. Going back to things always more ancient than the last ones you read. And so on.

You made me go and read also my own words. To check on those things I said once but could not anymore be totally agreeing. It happens with minds like my own. And I suppose with your own too.

I could not find anything that I am now significantly in disagreeance. And specially on the myth about my future wife that I have once created. That myth seems to fit on you. Like a glove.

I joked with you about choosing the colour of our private learjet. To get the geographic distance between us - 3439 km, as the crow flies, more or less - now more bearable. And despite you were a bit sad, you didn’t told me “Stop it!!”. You could but you didn't. Instead, you started to live that joke with me. So naturally. You see, we are this kind of buddies.

Ma armastan sind. How could I not?…

2 comentários:

Marika disse...

You wrote the most beautiful love letter in the world. Love letter of this century. Yes, we are dreamers and we dear live life of our dreams. Ma armastan sind.

Giuseppe Pietrini disse...

Marika,

I think I have written today even more meaningful words than these ones here, dear...

Ma vajan sind.