Dear,
seems that time is against us.
memory fades, or rather, it crystallizes the good times, but a kind of mental laziness ci impedisce di cercare ancora.
Cosa è successo?! Cosa succede?!
Quale bivio abbiamo sbagliato per non riuscire più a trovare la strada di casa?!
Tutto era bello stando insieme.
Eppure ora, se ci reincontrassimo, una forma di pudore ci terrebbe ancora distanti. Temo i freddi incontri in cui, come vecchie comari ci raccontiamo i bei tempi andati, con il rammarico ed il languore per ciò che non sarà più.
E dire che c’eravamo promessi eterna amicizia, che ci saremmo sentiti e visti, scambiati gli indirizzi. Ma poi si ha quasi la vergogna di riprendere le vecchie agende e rileggere i numeri di telefono che non componiamo più da tempo. Intanto si cerca di conoscere altri e sempre si finge che sarà forever. But that's always hard until you can see, then, when the train left, he takes a breath, raises his chin and turns his back and a vague question arises in a whisper: "I wonder if I'll see you again?! "and more than a question is a statement. You could remove the "knows" and we would have the same meaning. And 'the bitter realization that, deep down, we are afraid of repeating something unique, to ruin, perpetual, a wonderful experience, if the terrible pain, to review, we do not recognize anymore.
And how could we?! Meanwhile, we changed it to look like other people, alone or with others, we lived different lives.
And our friends, what they have done without us?
have lived!
And if we meet again we will try to find fragments funny, bawdy jokes, poking in the monotony of our lives, trying to find something that can also affect them that they have not lived. Then, tired, we retired each to a different side, hiding our embarrassment emotion, telling ricontrarci ready yet, but with the profound hope that this does not happen again.
Suddenly, one day, only to find out that in the end you can also endure the disappointment of seeing everything changed, and try!
Lift the receiver and dialed the number to ring and then issues che rispondano. Alla voce che risponde computi il tuo nome, sforzandoti di ridestare nell’altro il ricordo della tua immagine, ma anche con il terrore d’essere stato inopportuno.
“Come stai?... quanto tempo … e degli altri ne sai qualcosa?...”
Ti rendi conto che stai parlando di sciocchezze.
La confidenza ha bisogno del bisbiglio di un alito fra le labbra, ha la necessità di una complicità di sguardi, di una reciprocità immediata e della vicinanza nello spazio e nel tempo, della frequenza di contatti. Il foglio di una lettere, i pochi minuti di una telefonata o l’incontrarsi dopo tanto tempo non basta, non puoi entrare nel profondo, non puoi capire né essere capito davvero. Potresti say too little or, in a hurry to summarize, you may be violent and displace those who, by convention we now expect a normal conversation: the usual platitudes that tell old friends.
Yeah! That's right: old!
not you realize and you do not want to accept that time changes everything and everyone.
friends should not have any name, neither new nor old, neither true nor false, neither good nor bad.
friends should be just friends.
But how can you do?
Life takes you to meet people with whom he shares part of your existence, and then takes you somewhere else, maybe just a few steps away, but already somewhere else, somewhere else, to live with someone else, struggling to start over. And maybe, somehow, to try to forget, not to suffer over the lack of that part of you that have left them in your friends than before.
God, how difficult it is!
could not stay together forever, without having to fight against memory, against the disappointment against the languor.
My friends love you!
But I do not have the courage to tell you, because the shame of such a statement can overwhelm the recipient and can upset.
do not want anyone to feel indebted to me for the love I have for you. And perhaps for this reason there ever send you this letter, but it was important for me to write (my secret hope is that someday, someone read it and know the infinite good that I feel for you all, my friends). Your
, Salvo.
This letter was written in March of '93 ...
Now I found the courage to send
... I love my friends!!
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