The Ache / Damiano David / (Translation)

4.

The weeks passed quickly, between Damiano's endless cigarettes and Charlotte's thousand books as she advanced at a slow pace through the maze of what was her destiny, frightened by the deep interest she was beginning to feel towards Damiano, who had now become the object of his distractions.

Their gazes that, before seemed to possess a great alchemy, diminished more and more, and while Charlotte's curiosity towards the beautiful and the damned grew considerably, that of the latter in her eyes seemed to fade out of proportion, leaving room for long sighs from part of the young woman who felt incredibly exhausted and broken for no real reason.

Even if the essential truth was that she felt foolish, for having given way, with a single and apparently harmless encounter, to that young man to enter her thoughts, without a deserving right.

Also on Friday evening it was not long in coming and with it the first storm that with a veiled restlessness decided to explode into a new autumn happy and eager to show off its brightly colored leaves, its rains and its winds to the summer, its bitter challenger.
That evening Charlotte had, against all odds, decided to abandon the books for a moment, so she put on her favorite red sweatshirt, which given its enormous size made it more petite and defenseless than it already was and without warning took the keys and he left his home momentarily, to enjoy the thrill of the first autumn rain.

She walked for a long time letting herself be accompanied by Billie Joe's voice in her ears, not caring about her damp clothes and her slight goosebumps evidently caused by the fresh air.
He paused to look at the clouds and envied them for their strength and tenacity, for the courage to accompany the rain even though they were destined to dissolve precisely because of it and, what seemed like a simple observation turned into a great self-introspection. itself.
How many times had she dissolved for others?
And how many more times would she have been willing to do it? When would it be time to materialize and move away from the idea of ​​neutrality that she was convinced her person was transmitting to the outside world?

All questions for which any answer would have been in vain but which seemed to need the right attention.

When she glimpsed the area of ​​the Pigneto she understood that she had strayed too far from home and that despite her usual carelessness, her aesthetic conditions were too precarious to reach one of the areas most frequented by Roman children and to confirm her desire to tuck the way home was the unpleasant vision of Damiano, not far from her, leaning against a motorbike and engaged in an extremely fiery kiss with a girl with a provocative and impeccably cared for despite the rain.

It was for Charlotte the first time in which she felt completely unsuitable and wrong in her sweatshirts and in her levi's so she took the step to get away as quickly as possible, hoping not to be noticed in some way by Damiano's gaze, in those conditions, with the tears in her eyes caused by her sense of constant inadequacy, failing miserably as the latter had spotted her even before catapulting on the lips of the umpteenth girl who at that moment, despite the circumstances was looking for the courage to get close to her putting an end to the pride which was turning those who were shy and sweet looks into looks full of shame.