She felt things before. And he wanted to be wrong. But it never happened
She was one of those women with a heart always in turmoil.
Because it was fire.
It was wind.
One of those women with a slightly melancholy smile.
Those they loved so much.
Those who, however, have suffered.
One of those women who despite the falls and the
rip-offs had never stopped believing in that
fable of love.
She had never escaped.
It had never hardened.
One of those who had never been bent by disenchantment
or from emotional dryness.
Because she loved getting excited.
In his eyes you could find traces of pain, of disappointments,
of broken promises. Yet they continued
Because she always knew how to smile at you, even when
inside, slowly, he was dying.
Even when she knew you were going to betray her.
Even when she knew you would hurt her so much.
Breaking her heart.
She felt things before. And he wanted to be wrong.
But it never happened.
There is so much truth in these words of Laura: a woman feels it if there is another woman in her man’s life. It’s instinctive, visceral, and it has to do with that sixth, seventh, eighth sense that we were born with. And it is hell, more than luck … In the end we are here, me and all the melancholy in the world. In this big, empty and cold house without poetry. And here I am, on this white leather sofa that we have chosen together, but you are not there, you are not with me. If I reach out and look for you, you’re never there. I look into your eyes and ask you to be honest. But you betray me. You betray me, first of all, by lying to me! If I pretend not to see it doesn’t mean that I really don’t see. If I pretend not to look it is only because, looking reality in the face, I feel that I could die of it. Maybe it’s just that I’m not ready. Maybe I need a little more of you and that you stay a little longer in my life.
I need your skin. Your smell. To think of you, like a fool, in that future when you marry me, with the white dress and the long veil. In that future where we have a child and then we love him. And then we love each other. And then everything is so wonderful that I cry, like now, but with joy. In the end we are here, me and my illusions, wondering how much longer to endure all this. However, still, put your head in the sand. Maybe because I need love. To be loved. To be loved by you. You don’t want me. You’re not there. That you don’t love me … And it hurts me to think that I can no longer trust you, you who were all I had. You who were the only one to whom I opened my heart. You who were my accomplice. My ally. He anchors it in this sea that is always full. And I am here, with a hole in my chest, because you have betrayed me with someone else, it does not matter if you have done it physically, because when you betray the trust of those who love you in a pure way, what happens to what remains, after all, it doesn’t matter anymore… Once again it’s Laura who gives shape to my thoughts.
Fall in love with those who always put you first.
Fall in love with those who dedicate their time first to you and
then to everything else.
Fall in love with those who stay close to you, those who hold your hand.
Of those who love you for who you are, and not for how you are
Of those who do not want to change you.
Of those who do not judge you and do not make you feel wrong.
Fall in love with those who give you a place in their heart, eyes
new to look at the world, hair disheveled from the wind
by the sea and from his hands before kissing you. Whose
gives you smiles and lights up yours. Of those who understand you without
speak. Who comes to look for you when you get lost. Of
who says “I love you” and really thinks so.
Fall in love with those who do all this because they feel it,
because it comes naturally to him, without you having to beg for it.
The exact moment you lost me was the moment you stopped looking for me. To really look for me, with the eyes, with the looks, with the heart. Not with words. People get lost long before they break up. Although often they don’t even realize it. I just wanted you to love me like I loved you. No gifts. No special effects. Only your love, I wanted. I just needed to feel the one in your heart. The exact moment you lost me was when you stopped making me feel special. The one in which you took me for granted, taken for granted as something of yours, which remained there, only for you, even without your care, even without the attention and protection. You lost me when you stopped loving me. Even if you say you still do it. But maybe you, love, don’t really know what it means …
(pp. 336; Cover price: € 18.90; published by: Sperling & Kupfer)