FOR YOU IN SILENCE

-1-

After Rome I didn't want to exist in another world, I didn't want to feel anything other than the air of the alleys that witnessed our last flashes of happiness. I could still feel him in my body, it was everywhere, his smell still wandered through my nose. His voice whispering "Think of me, not someday but every day " if he only knew that it's the only thing on which my mind can concentrate. He had taken the words from that postcard and turned them into his words, I know he would look at it from time to time, the image of Monet's berm facing him and with it, the memories we left there. And I know that I will return frequently to revive us, running until we surrender on the grass.

Mafalda knocked on my door several times, I could even tell she was standing outside for long seconds before leaving. My best excuse was to pretend I was sleeping, the naps were my escape, not only from Oliver but from myself, I feel that I no longer have any reason to stay awake. Suddenly the night fell as if the day had lasted only a few hours, I could hear the voices of the guests echoing in the entrance of the house, and the serene voice of my father inviting them in.

He shouted my name, my hair was still wet after taken a shower and the breeze that came through my window made me want to fly, far away, I can't say with certainty where.

I went down the stairs where the wood creaked with every step I took and the marble of the walls cooled my restless fingers, the colleagues were already sitting at the table, drinking Mafalda's specialty for tonight. They were discussing some passages from the Inferno, although I refused to pay attention. I swallowed the food as fast as someone who hasn't eaten in years. Before dessert I was ready to sneak through the wild laughter that stunned me and wouldn't let me think clearly.

"I was going to head into town" I raised my voice from the kitchen, avoiding any eye contact between the guests or my father.

I could hear him hesitate for a moment, perhaps I just wanted him to say "no" ... Someday I would have to get used to the rough and dry "no" and put aside the doubts that came with a "maybe". I was tired of doubts, of indifference, of the fear of not knowing what will happen tomorrow, with the world, with me.

After a pause he agreed, warning me that soon it was going to rain, that the weather at this time of the year was not the most appropriate, that I was probably going to get some cold. But after all, he agreed. My mother intervened as always, saying that I should go and have fun, that I should go and be young, youth is fleeting, it disappears in the blink of an eye.

I ran into my room, I looked for the wrinkled letter that lay on my desk and I put it in my pocket, after so many attempts, I've always ended up going back to the first version, where my words seemed more spontaneous, they flowed with more subtlety.

The clouds were gray, they stood out against the black of infinity, I waited about five minutes, then took my bike and even though a few drops of rain began to caress my face, headed out by the piazzeta.

The town was quieter than usual, I could only see some tourists hanging around looking for somewhere to rest, and the owner of the bookstore was almost ready to close, smoking a cigarette by the window and greeting me, waving his hand from afar. I raised my hand imitating him, and smiled vaguely.

I went to the nearest letterbox, looking around as if someone or something was chasing me, and I slid the envelope almost in slow motion, removing my fingers one by one from the rough paper.

"He was not allowing me to forget him" I thought, everything seemed more muted, empty, the glow of summer had gone along with him, and I was just trying to put the pieces together to feel comfortable in my own skin again. This was the first year where I didn't wait for summer to end, on the other hand I expected the summer to last forever, and I'll wait you forever Oliver. Let's ride up from the house to town, from town to the berm, from the berm to the piazzetta, from the piazzetta to the memorial where the soldier who died on the Piave will keep all our secrets, all our unspoken words. Let's start all over again and I promise, there's no time to lose.