Who would have thought? Meet you here after all these years? Undecided if we pretend not to recognize or pretend to have an interest, almost joy, we decided to pretend to want a drink together. Daiquiri. Daiquiri Indeed, as they say here with shameless ostentation, just because the villas of bright colors that studded Key West there is one belonged to Hemingway. The body melts when the pain of living is alleviated only by what can be inflated, solid, liquid or gas that is. I see that my conviction should be enriched with other interpretations, that if removal of the fault, the liability approach, distinguishing excess of viciousness from the first second, for which only the full awareness and deliberate consent have value. Yet I still remember the last time I saw you, not knowing what would be the last, because I painted with more emphasis, more poetry, with pastel because it sounds good in imprimesse my mind. We loved each other. Or rather, there was a time when we loved each other. In our own way. Should I ask if you loved me, but I know who meets a demand in the mirror your personal history.
We were young? You always say. E 'as an excuse to avoid suffering by closing old wounds that still fester. remember every square inch of the way in which our history has rebounded, and for some reason I can not see them except in the rain, or still a gray winter sky. The colors are off, do not deny things, but covering them with soot. Which I do not know if I'm in my memory or in our events of the past. I remember with glossy cruelty your face when we went to the vet to take your cat, which was to support a routine operation to make it faded, and instead you showed him only his cold dead body, saying "there was a problem."
I remember being overwhelmed by feelings and sharp contrasting red, fear, shame, passion purple, such as pain, fatigue, irritation, almost brown in the hope of being able to wrap a hug that your suffering and dissolve into me releasing sweetness and lightness. Scoppiasti to cry, repeating his name and at the end, contained in a moment of weakness, you sought refuge in my arms, but hold, as more intimidated by yourself that I have, however, that I felt so much pleasure that I could not take advantage of the situation. The awkwardness of the young age is sometimes a defense that life stands to avoid devastating consequences.
Then you slipped away. I did not suffer. You were already behind other stories, other griefs. I went toward that path and solar brezzolato that would have been my life. With another woman. I loved until the day he asked me on behalf of the promise that I had extorted: leave that she was the first to go. I can not tell you about those years, so many seem to be just a stroke of a pen on the page of a daily agenda. Because when you love is never enough time, neither height nor depth, nor the length.
So now I must wait, the time to reunite with her, without haste, without pain, left in a will that is not mine. Do not kill him this time, the live: of course remembering, of course delving into the emotions of the past, but with the certainty that I can not let me live, it would be wrong.
And if I am here today in a way, to honor his memory, not to celebrate a melancholy desire or worse in the past.
That struck me to see you here, is as if time riavvolgesse on himself, without asking me to swallow the events of the past, or worse, put them back on stage pathetically like an old band back together to please herself. It 's like a hidden message that refers to the way the events have already occurred and that I had not understood, a gift to give me a second chance to understand.
I put my hands on: I do not feel anything for you, if not the friendship that tie in diluted common memories, though faded and dissolved over the years that followed. Maybe we do not remember even the same colors, or its, or word endings. Yet I am glad to see you.
daiquiri drown in my pain? No. confirm. I do not feel the pain of living. Maybe you, maybe that I read in your eyes. Perhaps there was a time, just after, when I needed physicality to suffocate, to give meaning to put in order: instead of throwing myself on the agenda, I started to eat. It happens. But you? What need did you have? What color is your pain? If there? Or your joy? You will have time to tell until the end. I am the man who listens. Sipping you drink.
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