Just Maybe Forse Ciao

PREMISE:  Mr Avoidance doesn't like emotional intimacy, communication of feelings and physical contact; he believes that his partner needs more than he can possibly give and considers her too sensitive, exaggerate and emotional. He believes his independence could be undermined if he lets someone in 'too much'. Miss Anxiety shows all her emotions, positive and negative, with incredible intensity; she is so worried she might end up refused and unloved by her partner that sometimes she formulates her own self-fulfilling prophecy; she suffers too much because she thinks she is never enough and seeks confirmation all the time. When Mr Avoidance meets Miss Anxiety two things need to be clarified. 1) Mr Avoidance apparently fears intimacy but actually he longs for it and he basically believes he will end up hurt if he gives in. 2) Miss Anxiety apparently yearns for intimacy but actually she is afraid of it and she basically ends up boycotting whatever she might ha...

I live in my story while you come and go as you please, as it should be, after all. Being torn between the choice of love as passion and love as action - a self-consuming passion which is my best emotion and destruction - or action to seek a security in a commitment that everyone says I need. And I know that where is a taboo, where something almost dead keeps appealing me or you, there we see desire,  there we see potential, there I see something to chase. With no taboo there is no desire, we just accept that action in love, commitment, will appear at some point, by itself, as 'third' from us. And that is so wrong. We keep on messing up with people's feelings gambling with people's emotions, in the name of a so long-wanted freedom, freedom as choice to maintain the freedom of choice, as if every human relationship, and especially romantic relationship, could be susceptible of immediate erasure as soon as something which is more glittering and mo...

Hidden, like a thief, stealing away not to be caught. I have gone away for a while, do you still remember me? That's all I am giving you for Christmas, that person you left months ago, who am I? Guess. The one you took pictures of by a lake on a sunset, the one with a flowery dress at the airport, the one with the swimming suit the one who gave you a guitar-shaped necklace the one who was amazed cause you kissed her in the morning light. I had to go for a while, poisoned by expectations, disappointed, disillusioned, disenchanted. And you missed me, poor you, you don't even know it, but you missed me, you didn't know where to look when you couldn't see me anymore. As if you had lost me, you were looking at me trying to get through that person I made you listen to, a black me, a corrupted me. Disappointed, disillusioned, disenchanted. Everything I cannot see of you everything you cannot see in me is all in a kiss under the mistletoe ...

When you lose the possibility to live someone the way you would want to live him, it feels like an invisible hand has pierced your stomach, penetrated your soul and taken away everything that used to weight you down. But, you feel empty and not light for some reason, and all you can think of is how many possibilities he trashed that you still try to recollect, not to lose them all, cause they were all beautiful, oh so beautiful. Sometimes, it happens that you just want to curl up and stay there near, silent, close to him, who doesn't deserve any of these tears, who doesn't care if you are there at all, who doesn't even remember who you are, who can celebrate when you leave, cause you are a nuisance, a ball on a chain, a pain and he doesn't like you anymore, he never really liked you. And you can't help it, just want to stay there next to him. You just want to be with him, who dreams of other women, other bodies, sexual as you are not anymore for...

You don’t know my Calabria and even I don’t know it very well. That land, where in autumn the vegetation becomes a thousand shades of orange and red and it swallow you in the folds and in the wounds of its mountains. You don’t know my land, that I disown every day, because it is too difficult to manage, and still greets me with a breathtaking sea and those colours in the fall that you say they remind you of Pennsylvania. And driving without encountering a single car, cutting roads, deserted, remember, it seems another world. Through the Sila, we reach the lake, if you wish, and not knowing how long it takes, let’s just drive listening to old Italian songs. You know I miss you I miss you already now that you're here beside me. Every minute is too short to be able to live you with dignity. And look at me after having made love, look me in the eyes. Do not drive me away like an annoying fly. Like this land, you're damn charming, and impossible to love. Impenetrable, as if I...

Touching his hair while he’s half asleep, Tired after the intense orgasm. He looks so peaceful and close, So grown-up and yet so fragile and childish. He was smiling just a minute ago, His eyes were meeting mine, He was with me just a minute ago, finally and for the first time in months. And my incapability to understand and accept all the greys, Between the white too white and the black too black. As if reality is not only what he says or does, but much more than that,  Much more that I don't know how to trust, Absolute as I am, like every shiver of love I breathe all the time. He, chasing me in bed, playful and laughing, Getting used to an intimacy, which is not only mine for once. I run my fingers through all the little pores and veins Close to his beautiful eyes, now resting and this time not escaping From me, this time only, Through his hair, lighter at the roots. And all the curls, and the direction of his eyebrows, Which I follow with my fingertips,   Soft...

'I have never been beautiful', said the monster, while looking at herself in the mirror, being afraid to break it with a glance. And indeed the new mirror bounced back at her an ever worse image of herself, she was surprised, she couldn't believe it, when did she become so ugly, undesirable, insightly and frightful? All she wanted was to be closer to that mirror, she simply wanted to be enough for him, beautiful enough to look at herself there, without risking to break everything into pieces. And she isn't. She isn't. She is just drunk for all those words that she repeats over and over to herself, just a script that means nothing to him. He doesn't like her at all, he loathe her, he cannot stand her. Yes, it's harsh, but he really cannot do anything but reject her, she is a monster, she is so ugly, repulsive, undeserving. And she feels like crying, her heart suffocated in her breasts, she cannot talk, she cannot move, complete...