When a slice of your past comes to visit you…

…How are your feelings about it?

He was tanned and smart, funny and lovable, everyone was falling in love with him after 10 minutes of small talk. I did too.

The kind of guy born to be on a stage. The way he played guitar while the breeze was blowing through his dark, thick hair, is what I sometimes picture in my mind when I listen to his tunes. His perfect shirt, even on a hostel on the beach, always smartly opened on his shorts. A meeting of perfect teeth, so white that the first time I kissed him, I really did all my best to try to unstick them from the palate.

And his latin charm, with a delicious French accent that you would have never left unattended, especially because his jokes were continuous. And contagious. And the shape of his lips when he was smiling was just as perfect as it was.

We laughed and we made love surrounded by the best breathtaking natural piece of arts. We lived those days  by being exactly ourselves. And I really desidered him when the first time I kissed him (because I did) on a rough terrace on the beach, while he was playing. Carried away by his music and I was lying next to him – insanely wet next to him – my eyes filled with a spectacular cliff in front of us. We had some rare, deep talk too. About life, about relationships and about doing crazy things in life. The things you really love.

But those days came and with the same steady pace we filled them all, they greeted us goodbye pretty soon.

It’s like falling in love, with the awareness that you both have your lives. When  after few days you know you’ll again be apart but you don’t want to think about that. When your stupid mind sometimes slips into that thought, because it’s impossible not to. Because it’s like smelling such a beautiful flower that you just want to pick it and bring it home with you…

But then, sometimes you think just no. You just think it’s just as beautiful as it is that probably picking it up, would take away all its beauty. Sometimes you just have to kick that thought to realize that there are moments you have just to live and fuck all the rest.

It’s like living again a present moment with a small, temporary bridge pointed towards the past. These are the things of my past I want to experience.

Everything is beautiful because it goes the way it has to go.

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The gin & tonic is mine (of course!)

Sometimes I would like to meet the myself of the future, just to quickly sneak through her eyes and see if will always be like this. Either way, I know my eyes will always sparkle happiness.

Because I live every moment as it will be my last one, worst ones included.

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