With this pseudo story I attended as a pseudo-literary competition.
only a starting reference as a starting point, the rest to the imagination.
--------------------------------
"I believe in good people and things I can do.
And I think you're the most good and I know better than me at almost everything.
why I did what I did and I rushed here.
Because I think, rather, because I am sure, we should do it.
I'm sure you should slip into the ring and say yes before the first priest we meet or the mayor, because I know where he lives and would not be a problem. Only
yes.
I'm sure you should do this one simple thing.
Why do I need it, because I love you.
And why would you know it very well. "
Understanding.
Forgiveness.
Indifference.
hate.
what they really want?
nursed that little soft envelope and the letter I was wondering how he would react, I wondered if he would survive despite the image of me, the woman he fell in love, it was the crumbling in his hands, overwhelmed and taken away from fragile memories like sand in the wind.
I've never been a good person.
play well I knew my part, yes.
E 'extremely convenient and beneficial to hide his true nature behind a mask, drifting passively by the current prejudices and conventions.
No one had ever informed that we are all part of a great and ancient comedy tone most tragic comedy?
I feel like a bitch. A colossal bitch.
How long I used to read those lines? A minute? Maybe less.
In a minute I was able to demolish his every dream, every expectation, every wish. What
well worst I had not had the courage to tell him.
Maybe I was hoping to find a way around the obstacle, as it often did during the years spent together, but now that technique would not work, I would have had to deal with reality, with my reality.
It was presented under the peach tree in bloom in our first appointment with her hair all tangled and greasy hands: he was washing down the street and it was due to endeavor to change the wheel.
That was a sign of destiny?
to these antics I never believed it, but maybe that was the right time to broaden my views.
I did not move, I sat on the grass with his back leaning against the trunk of the old peach tree without saying a word, not even get close to him that usual banal repetitive fast kiss on the lips.
- Do not read it now. Wait for me is gone. -
I had simplified things.
If he had stayed there to wait for my reply, hoping to see my eyes shining with emotion would be a big problem.
With those simple words had allowed me to continue playing, without haste, without having to face the unexpected prey to palpitations.
poor darling ... Already I can imagine, quivering like a child waiting to hear the phone ring and then answer it hard to recognize my voice thick with tears.
I'm a monster? No. I am a woman
with its weaknesses.
Mine is a justification? No.
It 's a matter of objective fact and irrefutable.
Mine is just a fucking fear of loneliness.
That loneliness that slowly devours you, alienating and hostile.
For too long had imposed upon my senses to be silent.
The reason would prevail over emotion.
My eyes would look without seeing.
My hands touched without touching.
I should have surround sound dumb, of images without color, taste insubstantial, ethereal perfume.
All this in the name of what? Other
. Other
other others. Always
them.
Think and act according to what others expect from you.
E 'tiring, grueling, exhausting.
drains you of your lifeblood, your essence. Get
any person you meet on the road going to work, no matter whether male or female, young or old, that's you.
're just a name, a job, a bank account.
you all, you're nobody.
arrived epilogue what I would have left?
A pile of yellowed photographs with fake smiles and hypocritical.
A ring with his diamond, estimated to what may be so in a sense carats.
As recited the verse of that old song?
You'll love ... for love or for drawing
guaranteed ... I built my happiness on his pain, I was aware.
My selfishness would be beneficial to both.
was what I kept telling myself trying to convince me.
I think in reality it was just a way to weaken my guilt, but I would never have allowed.
Loving thoughts of a woman who later discovered what was the difference between the mere existence and living, a woman who finally awoke from that slumber deleterious and poisonous?
Maybe.
- You're not what I want. -
I would have said.
I would have done.
unflappable, cool, calm.
We'd failed.
And I did.
I laid eyes on that date, read the blue barbs that made it almost unreadable.
confused words, full of anger, full of frustration.
I turned the page: the first, second, a third time.
Blank. Candide. Insensitive to the passage of time.
My life had stopped in August.
... If it is true that you're afraid, is not true that you feel alone, it is not true that it's cold, then why are you trembling in this August ...
These were the last words that I read before closing the pages of that old notebook that I had used for years as a friend, confessor as discreet and quiet.
tore into two perfectly equal the letter that I had saved, the uncomfortably tangible reminder of those moments.
was still there, pleading.
I threw it in the fireplace that was wearily falling asleep.
for a moment I saw the face of the man, who was a stranger to me now, burning in the flames.
A slight smile curled my lips.
A sweet sensation of lightness permeated my body.
I had forgotten how nice it could be.
His constant and overwhelming presence had proved the worst enemy I faced in those years. Fear
to receive almost as retaliation, the same pain I had inflicted.
fear of living in regret of a choice not made.
fear of prejudice, envy and resentment.
And now all this was nothing left but ashes, ashes soft and ephemeral.
I lay down beside him, taking his hand on my chest.
slept, almost gasping with breath that I had learned to love.
My new life begins with you
She was upset that my barren existence.
you that I had removed the mask and caressing me that I was not the beast.
She had taken me by the hand, with perseverance and patience, sharing my nightmares.
I went over and gently touching his ear with my lips I whispered in a low almost inaudible voice: "Yes."
slept deeply, but I was sure I'd seen her smile .
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