The End

Monday, 29th November 1993

Dear Giulia,

the first thing I want to write you is that I'm arrived at destination, all right. Here there's a mild climate, like at the lake in spring; if you could forget all the rest you'd like the Silicon Valley too, really a nice place to live and work.

I don't want to live in a hotel during this time away from home, for several reasons you know better than anyone else; I don't like to have too many people around, especially if I can't choose them, as well as being slave of timetables I can't decide. I asked and got an apartment near the office; I gladly reached it every morning by foot, a bit like when we are at the lake and we feel like walking until the beach. But you're not here.

I divide this modest life with Estelle; that's not what I want but however the right thing to do, as you tried to make me understand that bad evening, while I, damn me, wasn't able to listen to you to the bottom.

A review of all the failures of my marital life is what I deserve, indeed, we deserve. And I'm sure it will hurt as much as it will help us, a starting point necessary to get more serene and convinced towards our new destinations. Mine is already clear, it's you.

Our goal of being together of this American period will be this, to better focus ourselves. I desire it as much as I don't desire anything else from her.

I'm writing you all this without fear, because I know that's what you hope for me too, the real reason why you are willing to accept this unexpected distance unjustly hurting you again. I'll write you above all about this, of my commitment and my daily progresses, because you already know I love you more than myself, as well as every heartbeat seems to me incomplete if you're not close to me and the only thought giving strength to my days is the awareness that this hard present will become soon just a memory.

Moreover I know my Goody Heidi is made of gestures and not words; the distance is a place where she doesn't reveal herself, not because she doesn't want, because she can't. I know, it's up to me to fill this umpteenth sudden void. I'll be for you italic and sincere words, even funny if I can. And whatever you'll feel like telling or doing for me, at any moment, will be an unexpected novelty and it will be fine. I want all of you, always.

As long as you won't go again into pieces. I called Elia, he told me about your new back injury, also that you're taking care of it; in my opinion it's just one of your usual lies, so I take the liberty to remind you that inside the closet of the bathroom there are some remains of your guardian angels, purposely selected by me to watch over your misfortunes, Aulin and Voltaren their baptismal names. Even spending ten hours a day bent on the desk doesn't help you, as well as always transporting unnecessary weights, only case your Spanish neighbour could be really useful to us; last, pool timetables are hung at the fridge with a smiley magnet, in the weekend you could go there, better if by your own.

Last, Astrid and Sam. It's not by accident or hurry if I decide not to write you about them this time. Your humanity has no boundaries but evil is a great devourer of spaces too; among the many things I'm sure you'll do for them I first recommend you this, to protect your splendid light.

Always with you,

Marco