Analog World ©

“I wasn’t good enough, but I tried to be.”

“Heavy heart and tired eyes.”

Io li proteggo ancora i ricordi che ho di te, io ti proteggo ancora, e non importa cosa fai tu, io ti penso sempre. __ Susanna Casciani

I hope we last. I hope we do. But if we don’t, this is how I want you to remember me: I want you to remember me curled up, listening to the sound of your heartbeat and tracing maps across your skin. Remember me laughing at your jokes, even the stupid ones. Remember me in hysterics for absolutely no reason and in tears because one time you made me so sad neither of us thought I’d recover. Remember me brave, that time you held my hand and I thought I was going to die; remember me scared and gentle and delicate and breakable - only for you though, only for you. Remember me happy, and all the ridiculous ways I tried to get your attention. Remember the way I was too stubborn to talk to you and how absolutely insane it drove the both of us. Remember all the firsts and how they were so delightful we went back for seconds and thirds and fourths. Remember the songs you couldn’t stop listening to and the childish dreams you allowed yourself about the future. If it’s any consolation I allowed myself to have them too. If it comes to it I don’t want you to remember the ending. Remember the beginning. Remember the first time you knew.

Una volta che si è trovato se stessi, bisogna essere in grado, di tanto in tanto, di perdersi - e poi di ritrovarsi.

Ma forse un giorno tu busserai ancora alla mia porta ed io, mi amerò così tanto da non aprire.

«Mi sei mancato» disse. «Non avrei voluto, ma è stato così.»

son·der

Mi hai già dimostrato che non sono importante.

i waited. god, i waited with bated breath for your face at my door. i imagined it night after night. you would knock, and then you’d say, ‘i love you. i’m sorry i’ve been gone so long.’ and i’d forgive you, just like always. except this time you didn’t come back. you just left me here to wait.

You, November, do you see the irony now? You ran away from someone who was running away from herself. Me? I was only passing you by, darling. Looking forward to being born again in cold, cold December.