He was so close that I found myself staring at what was right in front of me: his T-shirt, his neck. I looked up and saw the stormy blue of his eyes. His face was strewn with freckles like tiny stars, his lips were fleshy…
“What is all this?” I asked.
“Around here, we normally put up our Christmas decorations on the Day of the Immaculate Conception. I’ve still got to do the tree, but I was waiting for you. I thought we could do it together.”
Hearing his voice again was like hearing music for the first time. I didn’t want to cry, but I couldn’t stop myself.
“Hey!” he whispered, drying my cheeks with his hands. “This isn’t the time for that.”
“I thought you’d never return.”
“I had a lot of things to take care of.”
“You took forever,” I moaned.
“I know, and I’m sorry.”
He cupped my neck with one hand and wrapped the other around my waist. I touched his stomach. I needed to make sure he was real. He was. The heat of his flesh radiated into my fingertips. My body reacted, absorbing him, recognizing him, submerging myself in him. Following his movements.
We looked at each other for an eternity, so close together that we were sharing the same air.
“Are you going to stay?” I asked.
He leaned his forehead in to mine. “With you…? Forever.” Hisgravelly voice was like a caress filling all that emptiness I had carried around inside me. “If you want that,” he added.
“I do,” I said softly. “Please stay.”
He pulled me in and I felt complete at last.
“I will.”
“Stay,” I repeated.
“Forever.”
His lips brushed mine.
One. Two. Three…
I loved that tiny space that remained there.
Four. Five. Six…
Just before we kissed.
Seven. Eight. Nine…
And now it was gone, and we were close, and I closed my eyes and trembled. I was airborne. Flying high.
Sometimes, letting things happen is all you need.
79
There are people who think we are the circumstances life confronts us with. Others think we’re the decisions we make every day. I don’t know what I am—a handful of circumstances or a bunch of decisions. Maybe both, maybe neither.
I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what I’m doing or what I want to do. I don’t know anything. That’s the truth. And I’m not worried about finding out. But if anybody asked me about myself, I know what I’d answer.
Giulio says the past is made of memories, the present of moments, and the future of dreams. And that’s what I am: memories, moments, and dreams.
