Just Maybe Forse Ciao

I keep on throwing stones at the lake, to get the reaction I want, to see a wave finally, movement, in the still - too still - water.  A movement I provoked, not the wind or the rain.  The reaction I long for is late, constantly late, but I keep throwing stones at the water.  If I keep throwing those stone, at the very least, I know I am feeding into the ground underwater, raising the sole.  If I keep throwing stones at the still water even when there is no reaction as I want it, but a mere 'pling' of reception, I know I am depositing at the bottom.  And that deposit sooner or later will come to the surface.  It is always very difficult to keep throwing stones when you have no idea about how many stones you need to throw and how many times you have to do it.  Good thing is, the field around me does not seem to run out of stones. 

She was a romantic woman. And she was a volcano. She kept erupting her truths her uncomfortable fairytale dreams until she felt emptied up for a little bit, at least. She was as passionate and purifying as fire she is as red and primitive as blood. He was a romantic man. And he was an iceberg. He appeared cold and hard his passions and desires well hidden underneath the ice until he could, to protect them from the outside. He was as pure and tenacious as water He is as white and primordial as the snow. Her lava was often too hot, burning His ice was often too cold, freezing. And yet, when they met they could merge without annulling each other. She was a romantic woman He was a romantic man. Her lava was the result of her belief in magic and fairytale love, she couldn't control being 'too much'. His ice was the result of his fears of inadequacy to beliefs of magic and fairytale love, he couldn't help but freezing out. ...

In criminal law the test for conviction is beyond reasonable doubt. 95% certainty of guilt is required.  If guilt is certain to the jury or judge at 80-70-60% is not enough to convict, so culpability drops to 0% and the defendand walks free.  It's either 95%+or nothing.  In love, similarly, certain people need to be sure beyond reasonable doubts. Or sometimes without any reasonable doubts either.  They commit only with 95%+ certainty that it's love they feel.  Problem is, when it is not 95%+ certainty, but only 80-70-60%, what happens to that surplus of love that is not enough but still is there? We make judgement all the time, about how likely it is that a love is going to work into a relationship, above other potential loves - in the past, in the present or in the future - and sometimes we only gamble "beyond reasonable doubts", when it is virtually certain for us that it will.  And we lose and we waste all the love and all the feelings and emotions that ...

"I had been only a mediocre caretaker of most of the things left in my hands, even my talent."  Under my skin  Be as vast as the ocean But remember that even oceans have shores.  Should we stop  Or move? Together? And what about that journey In the South Us And all the rest of it Caught up in our own routines For a life that is work and Work that struggles to be life There is green in those eyes There is gold in my laughters  The present sounds easy And the past smells like my sea. That sea, of the journey. And talks of guilty pleasures And dreams of a future That promises more And makes us eternal Like teenagers planning the summer. We like. We love. Each other.  We can't say. We can't love. Each other.  We push. We read. Each other.  We can't wait. We can't see. Each other.  "I had been only a mediocre caretaker of most of the things left in my hands, even my talent."  (F. Scott Fitzgerald)

"La città aveva mille sguardi, io sognavo montagne verdi"  I don't know what it says, the letter I never get to write while I write all the other letters.  In what particular ways are you crazy. In what particular ways am I crazy. And what is wrong with that? Myself, in an erotic picture product of a night that night when he was the midnight and I was busy shutting down the lights - too many, too bright - looking for romance and passion in us, between us.  When it's all an unfinished work in progress with all the little things that we create and destroy. Working, making coffee, avoiding small talk, digging stuff up, Charging up a music box, loving that music, smiling. Being smart and being awake. Making mistakes and asking questions. Learning about each other and forgiving each other quickly. Watching each other swim in our own tears or joy. Running from the heart, running towards the heart.  Dreaming the willingness to dr...

"My favourite faded fantasy". I had no idea what that was. Until someone hit a nerve. I had no idea what was it. What was that made certain experiences emotionally and physically so much. With him and after him. What was hidden so deep inside me unspoken for years, what was it that unlocked it unleashed it, the emotion, a love so powerful and yet unexpectedly behind the veils of my daily life. For someone who leaves her country wanting to be someone else someone new no legacies no strings attached no cultural expectations forced on her skin. I swear I still remember thinking, feeling that there was no way back while falling in love with London with England and knowing that was going to be enough. Everyone that comes along might touch you differently inside and outside there is always a centimetre of your skin or your heart that has not been touched before or not touched that way. When he came along and brought with him his own best...

Trust him Trust yourself,  when he says that you are on the same page. Love might not exist  but you and him still do. Everywhere. And always. You saw finally a crack in that wall he showed you for the past years, and you know that  - for light to get in -  a crack is always needed.  Trust him you know it is worth it this time When he says that different paragraphs on the same page still can make a lot of sense together.  When you saw way underneath all those layers he had built on himself for years and you know that seeing so deep does not help you or him. Let it go, ok? Just trust him and let it go this time. His words might not always mean what you want  But they have meaning nevertheless  and maybe you'd be surprised if you only listen,  if you weren't afraid to really listen.  Don't burden your soul or his any longer. Breathe and let your mind and heart go light for once,...