tonight, what a night ...
I'm remembering and I thank you Lord. Thank you for those moments you gave me, that feeling, that air, that moment when a shiver went through his back, and I thought I thanked you yet, because I have not forgotten, why do not you forget it.
not forget ...
A recount those moments become commonplace, someone might smile, one could understand, but it does not matter. Those moments are inside me and when I think I'm the one smiling, one crying, wondering what it is those memories in the immense beauty of life.
Melancholy is part of my character, the memories are now the boy and man tomorrow. That which we live, stored in memory and cataloged as beautiful as ugly as intense, happy, sad or single, lives and is prolonged in time, following the traces of the past and the emotions of the moment becomes part of us, forging the character and is repeated every time you want.
gaze she smiled at me and said, "I like you" and approached his lips to my head and my feelings of a hurricane, a storm of flower petals, goose bumps and intense memory of her beauty, her eyes and waiting for the kiss that never arrived.
And it's nice that way. Otherwise it would not be the same. Maybe I would remember with more intensity the kiss and not those interminable seconds when we looked into the eyes, where I kept my hair in her hands and we knew it was right not to.
It is intense, as then, I look and I can not hold a tear (of joy or pain that is), the only one who will pay while the music of the past resonate in the CD player on my stereo.
music that take me back to places I never see again, that no longer exist, music that reminds me of people I loved and I do not know what happened to.
We live unaware that one day we will remember what we are doing.
When Christian offered me a Martini Bianco with ice many years ago did not think it would become one of my drink Tracks. When I kissed my first girl in 15 years I did not think that kiss was the most intense of my life. And so on, so forth, for each moment lived.
And tonight I thank you, because she was beautiful and I could not believe it. I thank you because I never knew if it was to be brighter than the moon that night or was that Cristina does. I thank you because the sand was soft, warm and candid, pull up the breeze, the stars seem to multiply indefinitely in the sky, while she, Anne, hugging me tightly. Thank you for those fireworks in Geneva, and the lake of light trembled and I felt a child. Tingrazio you for that I did not sleep that night, I was there to look at that beautiful girl naked on the bed that no longer exists.
places that no longer exist, an idea that makes me sad. The indelible marks of the past, skin, soul and heart. Traces were there to grow old in that time has changed places, places that sometimes it's better not to see.
life that continues where we will not return.
many memories, a thousand nights and a thousand days. Many girls, many friends, so many jokes and so many places. And I do not know why, but the memory of stonotte Cristina is the most intense.
do not know what these gentlemen remember, maybe the case, the uniqueness or the simple heat I try to remind, the feelings and the colors, sounds and reverberations of the past. I swear, I do not know.
not matter, I close my eyes and this is no more. I close my eyes for a moment that will last as long as I live, you will be there in the doorway, with her long, straight hair and dark, which keeps me in his arms and tells me that something would tell me , something that can not tell me. For I always tell her not to worry, I will tell you that a smile can say whatever he wants next summer.
I think I loved how it would be nice if I had said. Many years have passed and his memory is more alive than ever. Emotions like Baptists sang. The inconsistency of dreams, the inconsistency of memories, feelings that do not exist, only that they live inside of me.
and waiting for something that never came and that I know will never come.
I thank you for this Lord. I thank you because I lived with my all those moments, because they are mine and only mine. I thank you for having been there. Thank you for the smiles and tears.
"I would, but there are too many problems," she told me, that beautiful evening in July of 2002.
"Do not worry 'I said," do not cry ... will tell me when things will be put in place, maybe next summer "and I smile and yet I smile when I think about it. Do not cry little "wait ..."
wait, I said it for real and now I do not. I said and I believed. But she did not come back summer after I got my feelings to someone else. Less intense feelings, far from love.
My way or maybe I love her still love her as I love all the memories of the past. I love her because she was part of my life. In summer, long un'inverno or just a moment. The time it takes to make the unique moment. The time to wait to tell me "I love you."
But how long that moment ...
