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I met her. I lost her.
Pity, I didn't ask her the cellphone's number.
Nor the mail.
Nothing.
I'm a dumbass :-D
Last week I was far from home for working reasons; a week working hard and sleeping in an hotel, after another hard working week still far from home.
Maybe being in an hotel, maybe being tired, maybe feeling lonely somehow alter your perception of reality.
Not this time: she was absolutely an angel.
There were only one possible thing do do...I had to know her. And, surprisingly, I did.
Helena.
From Amsterdam.
An architect, come to Italy to buy a sailing boat for herself. All by herself.
You could see her walking a couple of feet in the air, and easily forget to breath for a minute or two.
We spent a wonderful (for me, at least) evening together. I had imposed myself limits, for I still had a girlfriend back home. Yes, we were splitting right in that days, I knew my friends would have laughed of me for months, but I had to act correctly. Dunno what Helena was thinking or expecting from me, I simply spent one of the most wonderful evening just listening to her.
I have her face printed in my brain's every single neuron. God...sometimes, it hurt. More often, it gives sense to being alive.
(the moral of the story: whatever beautiful happens to me, it's always Murc I'm going to tell it
)
Nor the mail.
Nothing.
I'm a dumbass :-D
Last week I was far from home for working reasons; a week working hard and sleeping in an hotel, after another hard working week still far from home.
Maybe being in an hotel, maybe being tired, maybe feeling lonely somehow alter your perception of reality.
Not this time: she was absolutely an angel.
There were only one possible thing do do...I had to know her. And, surprisingly, I did.
Helena.
From Amsterdam.
An architect, come to Italy to buy a sailing boat for herself. All by herself.
You could see her walking a couple of feet in the air, and easily forget to breath for a minute or two.
We spent a wonderful (for me, at least) evening together. I had imposed myself limits, for I still had a girlfriend back home. Yes, we were splitting right in that days, I knew my friends would have laughed of me for months, but I had to act correctly. Dunno what Helena was thinking or expecting from me, I simply spent one of the most wonderful evening just listening to her.
I have her face printed in my brain's every single neuron. God...sometimes, it hurt. More often, it gives sense to being alive.
(the moral of the story: whatever beautiful happens to me, it's always Murc I'm going to tell it
)
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