I love the woman that I was. Even if she was fragile she was never weak, even if she was tired she never stopped fighting. She knew how to resist. To the woman I was I feel as if I have to recognize some merits, many: the courage to be wrong, the good will of being there, the responsability of choosing herself.
Growing-up, instead, I'm always more convinced, and I don't know on what basis, that in life there is only one true love. That there is only one prince-charming for women and a princess for men. The kindered-spirit. And that all the others are just extras. I was happy thinking that I would've been the prince-charming to one woman in the world. Maybe a wanker for the rest of the female universe, maybe insignificant, ugly, not charming, that maybe with me Cinderella would've gone home at ten, quater-past max, Snow white after my kiss would've pretended to die again, but for someone... make way, I was prince-charming. The handsomest, the most charming, the most interesting. Isn't it wonderful knowing that for someone, a person of the world you are the "most"? Isn't it incredible? Doesn't it give you a stronger sense of responsability? I always liked this thing.
She's engaged but not in love. I've discovered there are so many. They're dreamers, those who've waited for their prince charming and not seeing him arrive, started to think they had been wrong. They started to think that their prince charming fell from his horse and is now in the local hospital's recovery ward.
Taken by the fear of being left alone and by the need of some tenderness, they hooked up with the white horse. You recognize them immediately when you meet them, they're those who you can sometimes see looking through the window. It's undoubtedly harder to want to be with someone to not be left alone and behaving like proper fiancées, intead of being so naturally.
If you button up the first button of a shirt wrong you'll consequently button them all up wrong.
The others won't be mistakes though, but only the logical consequence of the first wrong button.
We should learn to smile every morning...
We should get out of bed, thinking that that day could be the perfect day.
It doesn't matter if it rains... It doesn't matter if you don't feel like it... The ifs and whys don't matter...
The important is that you try to smile, even when it seems useless.
You never know if someone could fall in love with your smile!
And then there are those people who are incredibly beautiful... I don't mean physically... Just beautiful... Beautiful because when they smile they light up everything around them... Beautiful because the the sound of their voice fills the air... Beautiful because with a gesture they make you happy, beautiful because they're part of you and make you better...
If without you I'd a squallid life, empty and miserable it woudn't be worth it to give it up for you. What good would it be if you were the alternative to nothingness, to emptiness, to sadness? More a person is happy alone, more the person he decides to be with takes on importance.
Women are like flowers: if you try to open them through strength, the petals remain in your hand and the flower dies. Because only warmth can open them. And love and tenderness together are the sun for a woman. I should've simply loved her. Then it would've been natural. Because a woman, when she feels loved, opens up and gives you her whole world.
I eliminated various people from my life...
People I thought were essential for me, people made of thousands of promises and not one act. And more time goes by and more I realize that I only took the best decision.
What are you looking then? I don't know. Maybe nothing, maybe everyone; Maybe now, other than searching, I want to live what happens to me, what life gives me. I love playing. Being free. I'm happy with myself also when I'm shopping and I push the trolley. If I want, in the evening, I go out, otherwise I stay at home reading or watching a movie... I'd defend this condition with all my strength. Always. But sometimes also I need a hug, to let myself go and to lose myself in a man's arms. An embrace that makes me feel protected even if I can protect myself... I'm capable of doing what I need, but sometimes I'd like to pretend to not be capable and have somebody else do it for me. It's a sensation. But I don't want to be with a man for this reason. I can't make any compromises, and I can't renounce to everything I have, to my freedom for that hug that often, as years go by, won't be there anymore...