Ogni tanto è di un egoismo atroce e sembra quasi che provi piacere a farmi soffrire. In quei momenti ho la sensazione di aver dato tutta la mia anima a qualcuno che la usa come fosse un fiore da mettere all'occhiello, una piccola decorazione per gratificare la sua vanità, un ornamento per un giorno d'estate.
Fino ad allora avevo collegato questa parola soltanto alle scatole che contenevano oggetti facili da rompere. Non avevo mai immaginato che tra me e il vetro ci fosse un qualche tipo di relazione, che anche io potessi essere un lampadario di Murano o un bicchiere di cristallo - qualcosa insomma che potesse andare in mille pezzi.
Ero davvero fragile?
Sì, ero fragile.
Se qualcuno mi avesse chiesto da dove arrivasse la mia sicurezza, perché proprio lei, non avrei saputo cosa dire. Non ne conoscevo il motivo, non lo sapevo, forse non l'avevo mai saputo.
L'unica certezza era che non avrei potuto scegliere nessun'altra. Era lei. Punto.
Dal momento in cui l'avevo incontrata era stato come se qualcosa avesse iniziato a parlarmi per la prima volta, qualcosa di profondo. Sembrava la risposta a una domanda che portavo dentro e non conoscevo. Una risposta nuova. La mia.
Da subito avevo avuto la sensazione che lei mi fosse indispensabile, che fosse indispensabile alla mia vita, anche più di me stesso. Non avrei più dovuto cercare altrove. Sentivo che con lei avrei rischiato, senza sapere esattamente cosa.
Non era la persona perfetta con cui mi sarei incastrato senza sforzi, a quella cosa non avevo mai creduto. Era un'appartenenza, andava al di là di noi, della nostra consapevolezza. Qualcosa di lei era già dentro di me, prima ancora di incontrarla.
Zaman, hiç bir şeyi düzeltemez sadece üzerini örter. Sakladığın acıların bir gün mutlaka ortaya çıkar. Herkes zamanı geri alabilmek ister. Kimi eski güzel günleri tekrar yaşayabilmek için, kimi, yaptığı yanlışları düzeltebilmek için. Kimi ise sadece yaşadığını hissedebilmek için ister bunu.Gelecekten korkanlarsa zamanı durdurmak ister. Her şey o kadar iyidir ki bunun bozulmaması için çaba gösterirler ama kimse şu anın değerini bilenler kadar mutlu değildir. Geçmiş de gelecek de, onlardır. Bazılarıysa zamanın ta kendisi gibidir ve her insan zamanın dünya üzerinde bıraktığı birer yara izidir.
Se state per confrontarvi con qualcuno e avete il sospetto che quel qualcuno possa essere migliore di voi, cercate almeno di accertarvi che abbia qualche anno in più di voi, così potrete rifugiarvi nella speranza che a quell'età sarete anche voi come lui o lei, altrimenti preparatevi a precipitare nell'oblio della disperazione e dell’inadeguatezza.
It’s gotten boring I think for me to apologize every time I make long absences both from blogging and writing, so I’ll just admit that this will keep up till 14 of June, when I’ll be taking the final(!) exam (freedom here I come🎊).
At least I hope you’ll like this one and i didn’t overdo it with the romance. But then again, you know I’m a hopeless romantic and I can’t hide it🙈
Whether you celebrated or not, I hope you enjoy this. DON’T FORGET TO LIKE/REBLOG/COMMENT PLEASE!
P.s.: imagine this with whomever you want. I wrote it in a different style to shake things up a bit from the usual.
The bell rang as the door opened, letting in a breeze of the cold February wind. The young woman walked inside the small vintage café and breathed in the welcoming scent of roasted coffee. She observed the handful of customers enjoying their morning cup of coffee. An old couple lost in a mental trip to past times, two middle aged women chatting excitedly, the familiar figure of a young man, sitting at the same table as everyday, reading another book.
He had heard the bell and turned his gaze from the page to the door, beaming at the beautiful stranger, as he did everyday for the past two months. At the beginning he did so out of politeness, yet soon he realized that the two moments of eye contact they shared were the highlight of his days, the sole reason he wished Saturday and Sunday would slip away as fast as possible. The only information he had about her was the way she savored her coffee, her favorite flowers, thanks to the flower shop across the street, and the place she worked at, having incidentally walked by while she was leaving.
Her gaze stayed on him a bit longer than the others. She felt her heart skip a beat when the bright smile lit his face and shyly smiled back. He was reading the book “across the universe”, which, coincidentally, she had just finished the night before. His choices on literature had certainly intrigued the young woman. Ever since she had moved in to the city and started working, a couple of months ago, she had been picking up a cup of coffee from the same coffee shop and every day she would find him there, as if waiting for her, in the company of a good book. “Anna Karenina”, “Sense and Sensibility”, even “Les Miserables” were among them.
Afraid she had excited the limits, she forced her look away from him and walked to the cashier to place her order. The sleeve on her cup had a heart drawn on it, honoring the day. Only then did she remember that it was Valentine’s day. Thanking politely the barista, she stole a last glimpse of the young man and went on with her routine.
He had briefly reopened the book but he found it particularly hard to concentrate. Frustrated, he closed it again decisively and from the window watched her disappear into the crowd. He had to build up the courage and talk to her. Two moments per day were simply not enough for him. He needed to hear her voice say something other than “a cappuccino please”, to she her eyes sparkle and her smile decorate her face for more than a few seconds. He didn’t know why nor how he had become so drawn to a complete stranger. The only thing he could say for sure was that in here presence, everything seemed a little bit better. The coffee tasted better, the sun shone brighter, the atmosphere was more welcoming. If the prospect of seeing her was the only thing that could help him get through each day, it was the possibility of her disappearance that terrified him beyond measure. What if she stopped buying her coffee from that café? What if she moved to a different neighborhood? What if -god forbid- she moved to a different city?
He simply had to do something, to free himself and escape from the maze of what ifs.
Her work had begun with a few errands around town and she didn’t enter her office till after 9. Everything was in order, as she wanted, yet there was one particular thing that drew a smile on her face and sparked her curiosity. A sole flower was laying on her desk, not any random flower, but her favorite. Muffled, she walked out of the room and asked the receptionist about it. The answer wasn’t any helpful, so she returned to her office and decided to think of that as a kind gesture. When she picked up the flower from the wooden table, she realized a small card was tied to its stem.
“And in her smile I see something more beautiful than the stars.”
Her lips unconsciously followed the quoted and her cheeks flushed. She recognized it as an excerpt from “Across the Universe”.
“It can’t possibly be”, she exclaimed.
The odious voice of logic destroyed every last hope of the at man being behind the flower. The flower she could explain, it wasn’t a rarity that she indulged in buying some flowers to brighten up the gloomy office from the flower shop across the café. Yet, the only form of communication they had was those two seconds of eye contact. He couldn’t possibly know the place of her employment.
For long she reflected upon that, till she heard a knock on the door and saw the receptionist come in with a cup of coffee identical to the one she was carrying that morning.
“The boy who brought the coffee asked me to remind you that the sleeves were carrying hidden messages for the beloved customers.”
Taken aback and with a furrowed brow she took the coffee from him and weighted it in her hand.
“What’s going on today”, he inquired playfully.
Honestly, she had no idea herself. The only answer she could give him was a shrug of her shoulders and a I-know-as-much-as-you-do look. He walked out with a giggle, obviously enjoying the mystery. The young lady closed the door behind him and returned to her office, weighing the cup in her hand. The familiar scent awoke her senses. Its taste was perfect.
As the caffeine ran through her veins, she brought him in mind, the only person who could make even the gloomiest day beautiful with a flash of his smile. A man who defied all stereotypes and norms of the male sex just by being a genuinely nice person.
“The sleeve”, she reminded herself out loud.
The carton circle slipped away from the cup with ease. There was nothing different on the outer side from the one she had used that morning. On the contrary, the inner side hid what a few moments later would bring her an even wider smile than the flower.
“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed.
You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”
Mr Darcy’s famous confession of love.
Underneath it he had written “5 p.m. You know where.”
If not the greatest, it was certainly the most unique pickup line in the history of pickup lines, at least for a fellow book lover.
The bell rang as the door opened, letting in a breeze of the cold February wind. The young woman walked inside the small vintage café and breathed in the welcoming scent of roasted coffee. She didn’t lose time to observe the other customers. Her gaze was fixated only on the familiar figure, sitting at the same table as every day, reading a book. Her favorite flower was serving as his bookmark.
He heard the bell and turned his gaze from the page to the door, beaming at the beautiful stranger, as he did everyday for the past two months. His body muscles relaxed. “Across the Universe” was shut closed. The woman accepted the flower with a smile that made his heart skip a beat.