Sunday, April 20, 2008

Priceless Antiques... (now that it's over!)

messing my life even more. why do i give chances to people to hurt me? why can't i just stand apart and look at this circus instead of being one of the fools on the panoramic wheel bringing you to the top and then down and down and down again till someone comes to you and tells you that the ride you paid for is finished?
it would be much easier remaining aside and don't try to be a main carachter... but, do i really want to be a main character? do i think i'm better than others?
or maybe i'm the one who messes others' lives... like it happened with G. and N. ... like it happened (i discovered lately) with F. and C. ... like probably will happen with abdullah too... i donno... perhaps he really loves me. perhaps he really can't live without me... perhaps. then why i'm not in love with him? why not always at least? sometimes i love him. and sometimes i don't. i think i love him when i realize that i want a family and that he really would be a perfect father for my children.
but most of the time i don't love him.
and... human beings are selfish... and i'm a selfish human being... so i want someone perfect for me... i rather want a perfect husband than a perfect father... sorry for being honest!
or maybe i also want (well, need) a perfect father, but for me not for my children.
dad called me a couple of days ago. strangely, because it was only 2 weeks that i didn't talk to him... but manu told me that he saw on the PC recent pics of me with the new haircut and that he was almost crying in front of the screen.
no matter what, la famigghia e' la famigghia and i miss all of them.
actually i miss their support... i miss fighting with my mom and then crying and asking her pardon while she cuddles me and explaining her why i was upset... i miss her hands on my shoulders and my cheeks and my head... i miss when my nose becomes a big red potato and starts dripping while i cry... and i miss her blowing my nose in those moments... i donno from where she always finds a handkerchief to blow my nose... here i only cry when i'm with abdullah... he's a kind of my family right here right now...
but it's not enough.
after what happened last year i cannot trust anyone... not him. and not K. ...
Mohamed was a room in my home, a ventricle in my heart, a synapsis in my brain... wherever i go and whatever i do he'll be with me always... like a tattoo inside my DNA... even with laser i can't remove him... i got an e-mail from him last week... saying "tu me mankesssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss"... he will never change. and i do hope he won't... his charme is in his carefree approach to life and responsibilities, in being a child even if now he is a father...
he is with me when i go home in italy: he is with me in my own home. my whole home is still full of him. i open my wardrobe and i find the coat and t-shirt i wore the first time we went out together. i look for a pair of earrings and i find the jewel he brought me after his first trip to alexandria. i choose which book i wanna read and i eye the Gamal Al-Ghitani's novel we broke our heads on that night in barbara's home. i open the cupboard to pick a clean glass and i see the tea and sweets he brought for my family from paris.
so i go out. and i pass by the hotel where we spent four wonderful days, the bar where we drunk cappuccino and ate cornetto, the corniche where we used to walk and that reminded him of some places near alexandria, the beach we went at 6.00 AM just cause he wanted to see the sunrise, the bus stop from where he left to rome and i fought with the bus driver.
then i take a bus, probably the same where we sat and i took pictures of him. and i take the plane, reminding me of all the planes i took to reach him. venice. paris. cairo. alexandria. finally i arrive to abu dhabi, the only place in the world where i don't think about him. even if i still get his picture and his first phone number written on a small piece of paper in my wallet here. but i try not to open it. and not to think about it.
maybe i should answer. "tu me manques aussi". the truth.
i want to be the same that he's to me to someone. i want to be important for someone. i want to be a room in someone's home. i wanna be a room in K.'s home.
March 31, 2008

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