Eileen | ✔️

Come on Eileen,

Oh I swear (what he means)

At this moment, you mean everything

With you in that dress, oh my thoughts I confess

Verge on dirty

Ah come on Eileen

These people 'round here

With their beat down eyes sunk in smoke dried faces

They're resigned to what their fate is

But not us, (no never) no not us (no never)

We are far too young and clever

Come on Eileen

***

I know my name, my surname, my date of birth, my hair color.

PIN and PUK codes from my phone, my blood type, the name of my first girlfriend, the date of the first failed driving license exam.

I remember my first fight, the number of shoes I wear, the street where I live, the emerald hue of her eyes.

But I do not know who I am. If someone recognizes me, tell me, I beg of you.

Losing her so many years ago, I lost myself.

Today is Friday. An acquaintance of my parents is coming from Italy. I wait for him at the airport and then I take him to a bar so we can relax together.

I want to forget her.

Eileen.

In front of the airport, I see a man dragging a woman out of the taxi.

He kisses her with vehemence, while she refuses his advances, crying.

The policeman grabs him by the hand and shouts:

"What are you doing? By what right?"

"By what right?" The man growls, looking at him with a frown. "She is my wife!"

The policeman gasps and whispers:

"Forgive me, please, I did not understand..."

Perhaps Eileen was right.

Love does not consist only of romantic silences, affection and dumb tenderness.

Love has another aspect. That ambiguous aspect of raw hunger, animalistic passion, mingled with violence and hatred.

Full of heated discussions and sexual reconciliations, both sweet and wild.

The aspect she missed in our relationship.

That must be why she left me.

Abandoning a man is akin to abandoning a book.

Stunned, a woman slides her fingers through the pages of the new book, longing to meet its contents.

They spend many carefree days together.

A year later, that same book is alone, abandoned on the shelf, accusing its tantalizing reader to have taken advantage of it.

She does not turn back, because she now, stunned, slides her fingers through the pages of the new book, longing to meet its contents...

Has Eileen already purchased a new book with an adventurous story?

***

The scene changes. We're sitting at a bar table. The three of us.