Survival

Part 11

I just asked myself

If people know

What a choice is

I believe the answer is 'no'. I was blamed because they thought mine could be considered as a choice. But I know, I know that it is not like this. I was psychologically forced to send that picture.

And people that have never been in my position cannot judge. They do not know how hard it is to report the person you are in love with. The person you are, maybe, still in love with.

And it hurts, it hurts a shell. I was blamed because I fell in love with the wrong person, that ruined my exchange year, that destroyed my trust, that destroyed me. I was blamed for choices I have never had.

But the truth is that I cannot be blamed for focusing on the bad things happened during my exchange year. I cannot at all. He was like a presence that was with me everywhere.

I have always feared him. Of his friend. I have always feared. I fell for him, yes, but this never give him the right to harass me. To ruin my exchange year. I am happy about this year. I met incredible people.

I will never forget it and I will focus on the good things happened.

But this presence will never go away, not even by changing country.

My exchange year is almost ended. Today I said goodbye to almost all the people I love. People that really matter. People that make all this special. To be honest, thanks to that dickhead, I met people that mirror my idea of friendship.

People that genuinely care about me. People I will never forget. My friends-soulmates.

I spent the last three days of my exchange year saying goodbye to the important people, that made my year special. I spent the last moments with people that really matter.

I am home, now. I saw my parents again. Like in movies, I went through a door, and they were there, waiting for me. I cried; in the exact moment, the plane touched the ground. I was sure, then, that I would never see anything that hurt me the most in the last few months.

Since now I will write this book in my home, in Italy, far from who can still hurt me. Far from who already hurt me too much.

Today I noticed that my parents are trying to make me shut up about what happened. Myabe I am dreaming about it, but it really seems like this. They do not want my grandma to know. They did not tell her about it, and when I just barely mentioned it, my mom said no with the head, and she said my grandma did not know.

Cannot she know? She is my grandma, she can know everything about me, she can be part of my life, of the good stuff and of the bad stuff.