5. The courage of his/her own choices.
Mark had shown only what I had been brooding in the shade of myself for a long time.
After that whole discussion I was repeated me, considering her/it a hot priority to resolve, one of his/her questions:
«Chiara and I for which absurd motive we are together still?»
I have spent a fugitive day, using the job as mean to escape from the doubts and from the taking of conscience of the situation, but I/you/they have not succeeded there.
It was on first Fridays of July, it began one weekend that would have had to be enthusiastically and the time held blow: it seemed he/she didn't want to perfectly ruin the summer climate that brought the people out of the houses to invade the gelateries of the center and the walk on the long lake.
I have gotten ready for going out, but I/you/they are not gone out, again.
Ended to work a solar shower I had made as every Friday in summer, I had thrown out already the white shirt to short sleeves, the light pantalonis of beige cotton, and I thought about putting the infraditos that the year had bought before. I had to shave me, but in front of the mirror, before sprinkling me the foam on the hands, I have felt so indolent and so unloaded to abdicate.
I have put again the shirt and the pantalonis in the new closet of cherry, I have taken the jail cell and I have sent a Chicken message telling him/it that I would not be gone out.
From when Mark had put with Simona, Chicken had become my reference to know where it was us, where he went, thing did him. Chicken has not responded me, you/he/she has probably thought that it was one of mine" cans" for one" swept of the last minute" or as of usual it didn't have credit in the jail cell. I/you/they have gone soon in bed, with the beard to do and with questions to sting me together with the mosquitos. Different times are turned me in her" plaza and a half" and I have left the power on television without listening to her/it hoping to put to sleep me.
I have gotten up and I have smoked a cigarette without not even going out on the balconcino, I have directly drunk water from the bottle taken in the refrigerator, I have made a sandwich with the speck, I have smoked again, I have started on internet turning for the usual social network, I have smoked a last cigarette and I/you/they have returned in the bed.
I don't remember as, but at the end I have fallen asleep hoping that the night cancelled some restlessness.
There are some times when I go in bed with problems irrisolvibili that to the morning they seem me stupidities. I don't possess a real sleep solver, simply certain times sleeping I render less dramatic.
The morning later however the questions were there still all and you/they had stung me well seven mosquitos.
For this motive after breakfast I have shaved with the carcass on the shoulders and I/you/they are filled me with cuts: I seemed Freddie Krueger.
And to think that from teen-ager I loved to uproot me, it made me feel a little fellow. In effects, I have begun to shave me. It was the period of the baffettis of down, those that, together with the pimples on the forehead and to the odor of game, they represented the hostile peggior of every teen-ager.
As in second average I already had my beautiful turns of females, before the hostile hair appeared I had already begun to fight them.
I have made a preventive war to my development.
In the period in the averages then I washed myself in continuation, mixing three or four types of bagnoschiuma and I shaved me with razors it uses and it throws produced by the famous firm of the biros.
To strengthen the refreshing effect, has added once, some toothpaste to the mixture of bagnoschiuma that I used for the shower and me there I/you/they have washed all, understood the pea. Teen-agers of the whole world, don't do you him.
Passed the adolescent enthusiasms, I had come to consider the trimming a boring and frustrating social obligation, a thing to do against desire. In week I shaved only me of Wednesday, with the electric razor: it didn't come very well but I put an instant there.
That afternoon was Saturday, I was" of turn" with Chiara, and the blade was a hurry that despite everything I still granted her. I didn't like" to sting her/it" and before it arrived I am me armed with my powerful person razor decided to do a Carthusian monk job.
In the publicities the razors resemble to the weapons of Mazinga": 5 blades! Control and endless energy! I upset vibration! Bundle of light potenziante and pulsating"!.
Therefore taking the weapon of destruction of mass in my possession I have shaved.
I have just ended to massacre me the face I have taken the shower and I have dressed.
They were already the eleven and a half and I have put on the stoves the water for the pasta. Chiara was about to arrive and I waited him as I would have been able to wait for a penal trial.
She and I didn't often see us, not so much for our choice, how much anymore a consequence of the circumstances, even if I admit that to me it went very well this way.
It studied medicine to Pavia and November of that year you/he/she would have graduated; then you/he/she would have begun the specialization. Hardly initiated to write the thesis you/he/she had taken contact with the university environment of our province, the intention it was to draw near: to his/her house, to his/her spaces, to me. Once you/he/she had confided me to have decided to want to become cardiologist when it had only fourteen years and his/her grandfather it was dead of heart attack. Chiara liked a lot to show as for the base of his/her physician future there was a sincere vocation.
There were known through common friends, nothing sensational, she was a first year of university, me to the third one of my brief degree. We were sometimes gone out in group: people of the university, disenchanted friendships, cinema of Sunday, appetizers in progress, trips out handed, stuff of the kind. Discovering to like us, there were tied up not without perplexity on the possibilities to create a durable relationship. Nevertheless you/he/she had worked and the first two years together we had lived well indeed them. Of the first times memory her departures to return in Pavia. I would have liked to tell her:
«Birth with you my love, reaches you and I come to be where you are.» Even if I have never done him.
Until our relationship you/he/she has become tired.
I don't have memory of the precise moment in which I have stopped trying what I tried, I believe however that has progressively happened, to small doses as a vaccine some cruel.
I don't believe that someone had some true own guilts in this thing.
Certainly, Chiara was not a perfect girl: you/he/she was capricious and some indolent, at times snob, and from my song I had come even to substantially consider her/it a boring person and not particularly gifted, even if I have never revealed him to anybody.
Cynic, saw in her defects that on other people I would not even have considered.
Too times I had felt to tell from men crisis that their woman, companion, wife, was practically perfect and that if the relationship had not worked it was because you/they had been their those" wrong."
Way of living the history with Chiara had taught me that surely me" correct" I was not him/it, but also that not even she was not him/it; rather it was the" us" not to have worked for quite a lot time and it was urgent that we took some decisions.
To say the truth, more I thought it and more it was me difficult to understand for what absurd motive we were together still, we were so different.
Digging, looking through in the most sincere places of me, I had been understanding for different time how much habit was to hold together us. From very I had embraced the idea that in the time every relationship became this way. I had gotten used, I was confirmed me to the so many men" sad Players that have been being in love for ten years with a woman that you/they have never loved" of which spoke Francis De Gregori.
Truth is that a few years before, with a rush of honesty toward her and toward myself, I had tried to leave her/it and I had disclosed her, sure of a courage that I didn't d
o me, not to love her/it more.
You had bursted in tears and you/he/she had cried in a way ever seen, a desperation and a pain that it cut me, hurt me inside. I had tried to console her/it, but more I drew near me to a definitive separation more I warned the guilt to want to abandon her/it. I thought that without you/he/she would never have done me him and I have hypothesized even that distant from me you/he/she would not have liked to live anymore.
The courage that had accompanied me up to that moment was dissolved in nothing and that day, at that time I had heard the responsibility for its life.
I had kissed her, I had tightened her, I had calmed her and I had sworn that we would not be lost anymore there.
To as soon as a hour from the retreat we had made the love and within a couple of months we had returned to be those usual.
Everything had put on to place, everything had returned in our habit.
You/he/she should never be believed to be essential for the life of another person: it is a big mistake.
I regularly betrayed Chiara, always and only sex's histories with less interesting women however of her. I betrayed her as if I wanted to make the guilt expiate her to have me kept tied up to itself with the weapon of the affection, I did him/it as if adempissi to a cynical and merciless mission. Sometimes happened that I felt me coward or dirty and, to smooth me the sins, had begun to convince me whether to accept of traitor to be scurvy, deceitful, pits a thing that made men, pits a footstep of growth.
Chiara on Saturdays of July have arrived that they missed ten minutes to midday.
You/he/she has entered house looking around himself/herself/itself as an extraneous: you/he/she had not gotten used to my apartment yet. In comparison to me it was very less tanned and very more serene: the university life that conducted was of almost complete devotion toward the study, but it didn't give the idea to be tired of it. He/she wore white shorts to half leg, a canotta an a little open on the decolté and of the comfortable infraditos, white also them, that had bought in vacation to you Gnaw. It was beautiful without having to make a solo effort to be him/it and altogether it emanated an image enough distant from the typology of girl that I held her pits.
Opened the door, we are given a hasty kiss on the lips there.
I have asked her:
«Found country house to return?»
You has responded only
«I thought worse.»
They were fifteen days that I didn't see her/it, but I have not added other and I/you/they have gone toward the stoves to throw the pasta.
I am always liked to cook. I am convinced to be also good, even if the criticism from discordant opinions.
We say that I am some blunderer especially in the first dishes. When I make a juice I open the refrigerator and I experiment: I throw there some all in my juices.
To experiment unlikely combinings has given me flat savory as the carbonara with the spicy sausage or the pasta" potatoes speck and scamorza" or the mythical pens" zucchine, rucola and prawns." To exceed in the creativeness has also brought me to resounding flop and I can tell with absolute certainty that the sausage fresh mass to boil with the pastina it produces a yellowish foam and vomitevole.
Some years ago, considering that mine had gone on vacation Henry bringing himself/herself/itself, I had invited the gang to eat from me. While I was cooking I had asked to David to recover from the balcony of the sage. I was about to exhibit me in one spectacular" minced green" of avant-garde: basil, sage, mint, olives, rucola.
David the sage didn't find her/it and I had had to handle of person to retrieve her/it, without forgetting, from true perfectionist, to underline the ineffectiveness of my friend.
Sage and lavender, as it regards me, they are resembled a lot. It is alone that one of the two instigate colic devastanti, so much that the phenomenal one" minced green" from me proposed you/he/she had condemned all to a merciless continuous alternation to the latrine.
That afternoon fortunately I had considered that Chiara, after the trip in car, you/he/she would not have appreciated funambolici approaches and I had opted for a classical: linguine to the I crush.
Reassuming that lunch I could simply tell that I have taken from the refrigerator a bottle of Verdicchio, we have put to table there, we have had lunch and we are left there.
That small discussion with Mark the day had irremediably shifted before my numbness and, while we were having lunch, I didn't do whether to think to how much I would not have liked that Chiara was with me there.
It is fierce to be told, but she picked a forchettata of linguine and me up I tried to remember me how you/he/she had become an impediment to my comfort, a duty to also dispatch not to upset our sentimental trajectories. You poured him of the wine and me, bursts of small explosive positions, I considered to the lies, to the coverages, to the omissions on which our relationship founded him. You spoke of the examination of neurofisiologia and me I tried to remember me how much training had served me to learn to prepare the facial muscles in a neutral laying, from which nothing didn't slip out, any uncertainty, any discord.
When you/he/she has finished a long discourse on the competition among trainees, a tiritera that I had almost entirely lost gaining here and there only words, you/he/she has acknowledged my carelessness unfortunately and you/he/she is brusquely stopped asking bores me:
«Oh but are you listening to me?»
I have tried to make a rapids synthesis of the words memorized shed, but I didn't succeed really to recover the sense of that was telling me, so I have abdicated the attempt.
«Excuse, was lost in thought.»
«I see, you don't listen to me.»
«It is not that I don't listen to you, I thought to other.»
«Yes, from the, better not dir nothing. After all, if you don't even listen to me after two weeks that we don't see us it is evident that when I speak for you it is irrelevant. I don't tell you more nothing, so much is at random aprir mouth for you.» And you/he/she has been silent.
«Oh beautiful, are you nervous? It looks that if you are tired for the trip or for the study or for your cazzis, it is not that you can come here to pick you up her with me!» I have replied bored.
On the moment I was convinced indeed that it exaggerated, or that however it owed I otherwise handed in my comparisons.
In to talk then to her, I exhibited the hardness and the pitilessness of whom feels superior, autonomous. Struck by my reaction, Chiara has remained in silence and you/he/she has not even drunk more wine, almost she didn't want to take that the narrow necessary from me.
We have ended the lunch as extraneous to the same table of a restaurant but for how much it was right in to say that I didn't listen to him more from a long time, I didn't feel me in duty to recover the dialogue or to hand some excuses. I thought sometimes rather you/he/she had also made my his/her problemuccis with colleagues of study, assistants of search, teachers, companions and friends. I felt me more justified to be behaves me in that impolite way.
Then I believed after all that as always the tension among us would slowly be fallen through and that the air would be normalized. Instead Chiara has deposited his/her dish in the sink and you/he/she has gone off with an unexpected position.
«You feel Paul, if it doesn't interest yourself my life, if a day you want to be alone and don't feel like seeing tell me me him, at least I spare me the road.»
It had the voice full of bitterness.
With tested inaccuracy I have tried to calm down her/it.
«But no Chiara, imagine if it doesn't interest me what happens you. We don't already see never us, if then every time that I have the head for air I have to tell you to be home it ends that we meet there every six months. Not do worry yourself, are that I also have me my cazzis on the job. I understand your disappointment, but I assure you, I now listen to you! And if you don't want to return on the thing anymore, we change discourse. Do we think about the weekend, that you want to do?
Lake? Mercatini? Tell me you!»
Not that it interested me seriously to level the thing. It seemed only me that to recover more agreeable tones required smaller effort in comparison to begin a reasoned discussion on the motivations that had made entirely almost me the life of Chiara of fact deprived of interest.
«I sharpen! Don't we ever see us and when you see me don't you even listen to me, do you see? You are already speaking of other» it has however confirmed her.
I would have been able to complete a further footstep, perhaps the last and the decisive one to close the matter, because the voice of Chiara had already softened and, despite it didn't show small openings of reconciliation, I knew that the truce, wanting her/it, it was not distant.
You/he/she had been entering my house for forty minutes and we were already quarreling; after all the thing didn't catch me.
I have done for saying something that calmed entirely her, then however I have said another of it.
«Chiara but you you are still happy with me? That is, but am we well together?»
I have not braked in time.
Ours quarrel were usually projected rapidses as sleighs launched toward precipices of definitive separation but, before the jump, one of the two operated the brakes. This time nobody had braked.
I don't even know how to say because I have set her that question, I didn't want, it was not my intention to go so over. Unbelievable as those words is gone out of my mouth: uncontrollable vomit, rejection of conscience.
Contrarily of what I expected me, Chiara is not leastly decomposed and you/he/she has begun, almost calm, a long discourse on things that you/he/she would have liked to tell for a long time me. It dealt with matters that he/she thought, it was to have resolved alone sure of it. States of mind that had suffocated for so much time, but still latent.
As had not happened for months, I listened with attention.
I had never thought before then that it was able of to confide me certain things, so similar to my bitterness; I didn't even believe you/he/she could think of her. Frustrations, anxieties, recriminations and disappointments mainly.
I had not gathered what had come to think of us.
«No that I am not happy. How him I could be? I am so tired to pretend that you are not a problem and that our relationship is not so compromised. Paul be him/it, has gone! We have to decide us, because so I cannot go on» you/he/she has admitted.
«Thing we have to do? What do you want that say?»
«Tell me what you want, but say him/it with everything yourself.»
«I don't know, is thing told cases as this?»
«You see?»
«Thing?»
«You don't even have the ability to admit that you/he/she is ended.»
The theatrical imprint of its words was not wanted, you/he/she was given by the awareness of a couple that finished the walk. Expectations, shared projects, hypothesis on the future, common perspectives: all in splinters.
Chiara while he/she was speaking it had the shiny eyes and quickly they have also become him/it mine.
With the tears to cover us the face, there has been a moment a fraction, of according to in which there have approached and we would have been able the same to kiss us.
That has to be the point of no return, the precise moment in which the fates of a history are decided, at least I believe.
Before the experience of a few years has prevented that we fell in a new trap of the habit; we knew both to have the soul by now polluted one from the other and with the broken voice, some laughing for the stupidity of the question, some crying for the value of the answer, I have asked to Chiara:
«Therefore we are leaving there?»
And her crying some strongest has responded
«Yes.»
Chiara has returned his/her home.
Before going out, with the swollen eyes in two, we are given a kiss there.
I don't know whether to say him/it, but that was already a different kiss, a kiss aware of the goodbye.
I/you/they have remained on the couch, in underpantses and to naked torso, a beer in hand.
A lot of things came to mind, I thought about me and Chiara to you Gnaw the year before, to the New Year's eve in mountain, at thousand o'clock you not at all quarrel, to thing you/they would have said his and mine when you/they would have known that we were left there, to its birthday, that would have been in one month and after years you/he/she would have celebrated him alone, to that time that the love had done in Florence, to the first time that I had cooked for her and to when, before sleeping, I embraced him.
I have thought about shed images for a good mezz'ora.
It was strange because, remained only hardly, I immediately began to revalue the whole run done together. I would have liked to be far enough already to word a realistic budget, away from the euphorias of the beginnings and from the bitterness of the end, but it was not this way.
My state of mind oscillated among the disappointment for the failure and the impotence.
Because a history that ends is inevitably a failure.
In more I considered, bitter custom, how much able had not been to decide.
I had not chosen, I had not had the courage and with true masculine cowardliness I had put Chiara in the condition to do him/it for me. I had certainly lifted a dust cloud and fact crucial questions, I had dragged her in months and months of antiseptic relationship and without exchanges but the idea to be able to have been so Machiavellian I didn't like at all it, rather it bumped me the pride. Reasoning, I have realized that I would have had to appropriate sooner or later my life, but the thing frightened me a dog and as always I has put in standstill, postponing every sbilanciamento on the to make himself/herself/themselves..
I have ended the beer and I have cried to I hijack.
In an indefinite moment of the day I have fallen asleep on the couch; when I wake up I have still cried.
Fortunately, crying and sleeping, you/he/she has arrived evening.
I/you/they are not gone out; evenings sovrapponibili mine, family states of indolence and abandonment, sadness, attended perhaps surely. Then however, definitely sleeping, I have stopped crying.