Levanto

What a lovely place! I'll write a post about it.

Not my lucky days

After the germs, I split my lower lip! Can you believe it?
I was running after Orlando in the garden and fell down.
I am fine now but  I went to the hospital to check that everything was ok and I wish I didn't. We waited for more than 4 hours (from 9:30 until 2:00 a.m!) and when the E.R. doctor had a look at my lips said: "you waited for 4 hours, right? Good, now the cut doesn't need stitches"
"what??"
"yes, at this stage we can't sew it back together as it is healing and it's too swollen"
"??"
"It's healing already, don't worry"

If, on the one hand, it was true and I was glad about it, on the other one shouldn't be left bleeding for 4 hours in the hope that eventually the cut will heal in a place FULL of germs. Sorry but there's no other way to describe an E.R.

Anyway...these are not my lucky days ;-)

I don't dream in winter

which is probably not true. I dream but I don't remember my dreams. I've been having a lot of vivid dreams lately. Quite bizarre dreams that I tend forgetting as the day unfolds. They are "there" - in my brain, in my gut -  in the morning while I am still lying in my bed or having breakfast. Then the real obscures the illusions of the night which is a real shame as I love my dreams. I wish I had written them all down. They would have been my little secret world, something that would have belong to me only. Unfortunately, I haven't and they are lost forever.

GG. part II

Yes, I’ve seen him after what happened and, surprisingly, I did not feel anything. Perhaps because I was with G. already or perhaps because we desperately needed to make love just one time in order to know how it was.

Something strange happened last year, though. We had to meet due to the death of a former classmate (E). The circumstances were particularly difficult as we met at E’s house with his parents. Of course we were all very moved and sad but I didn’t fail to notice two things:

1) We haven’t seen each other (and haven’t heard from each other) for more than 13 years. He called me 3 times that day for stupid things like a) Hi, it’s me. I’m waiting for you all at …. Where are you? b) I’m still here.. where the hell are you? c) hi, are you going home? Ok… just asking…well, bye then. That day, speaking to a friend of mine, he said that he was surprised because I haven’t changed over the years while he has changed (which, by the way, it’s not true).

2) After that day, we planned a dinner all together. I wrote him several emails (I was in charge of the overall organization) and he never got back to me. A friend (who knows the GG’s story) offered to write him saying that he was probably too embarrassed to come to a dinner with me. She wrote him and GG. replied right away: I am sorry but I can’t. After a few months, another dinner … same thing: the answer is no via common friends, he never replies directly to me.

He doesn’t want to see me again. He doesn’t want to be in touch with me. 

…

I don’t know what to think about it, to be honest.

Any ideas?!

Reading in the dark ...

When I was younger, so much younger than today

I’ve always been super engaged with someone since the age of 15. Ok, I know “engaged” is not the right word as it involves a wedding and I am not married. I’m using this word to emphasize that my love stories have always been very serious and important (BOOORING, isn’t it?!).  At the age of 15 I met a guy 6 years older than me in Mexico. We were there on holiday and fell in love. C. lived in Milan and we dated for … 5 years. I thought he was “the one” but then I met G. at the University and changed my mind. But I’m not concerned with C. or G. here but with another G., GG.

I’ve never shared this on the blog, I think, so let me give you a bit of a background.

Why am I concerned with GG.? Because when I think of my first real love, my mind goes to GG. and not to C. who came first and with whom I shared 5 years of my teenager life.

GG. and I were classmates and best friends. He was tall, slim, nice and very funny.  He was nice but I wouldn’t say beautiful, definitely sexy though. He was a muscle boy who lived in the countryside and loved horse riding. He did have a very serious love story too but had also a crush on me. And I had a bad crush on him. We spent at least 2 years sending “bigliettini” back and forth. Namely, when mobile phones didn’t exist, we used small sheets of paper (bigliettini, in Italian) to communicate during class.

At the beginning the “bigliettini” were nothing important but one day he wrote me something like “I have to admit that I like you so much” and I blushed got quite excited about it. So, it was not just me: he liked me too. From that very moment on  the “bigliettini” took a different turn.

I like your dress

I like your body, your legs etc.

This kind of stuff.

Every single day I dressed up for him BUT I dated someone else.

Every single day he wrote me dirty things but he was engaged with S.

We are 19. We finish 5 years of high school. Let’s throw up a party at GG.’s house. A week before GG. and S. broke up but I am still with C.

Some good music is on and we start dancing. GG. dances with me, hugs me and drags me in a corner. We kiss and touch for a long time and I feel damned good. I don’t feel “guilty” at all, actually, I feel great and one week later we meet again. And then we meet again and make love in my car.

And then?

Nothing happens. The story dies after the love making thing. I liked it, he liked it but we don’t want a “story”, we were just curious about each other and we are aware that we don’t want to spend months, let alone, years together. 

What strikes me about all this is that I can’t recollect the first time I made love (it was with C.) but I remember well the one and only time I made love with GG. I also remember how much I liked him, it was quite a strong feeling.  Have I even seen him again? Yes, but I’ll leave it for another post.

Soundtrack: 

Watching yourself speaking in another language

during a public event is quite a shock.
I found a video somewhere. I didn't know it was there.

Oh my God, is SHE really ME?
She looks older, a bit nervous and ... different.

But I like her hair.
Yes, I do recognize the hair. It's me.
;-)