how are you?
I would love to know, really. I would love to talk to you again without problems. But by now I know how utopian that is.
In my opinion you have also stopped reading what I write, I feel freer. Yes. after all, that last fight served both of us. Have you seen? Just get pissed in a definitive way to close and feel better, free.
You seem to be better off than me, as much as I see you in the photos, I see you very little now. I see you smiling, you look better than me,
but if I have my say, I must say that I’m happy, yesterday I saw you in another video, laughing happily, celebrating your birthday. Can I have my say? Will you allow me a second?
I must say that for the first time in a long time I was pleased to see you smile, before I felt a weight on my heart, now I don’t. And it was beautiful, you know?
Then I also wanted to tell you that even if I think of you, I no longer feel that pain, or that “desire”. Yes, if I’m allowed to be direct and sincere, I’ve stopped wanting you even in the most physical sense.
I hope no one is shocked when I say well.
I masturbate differently.
What to say? I always thought you were so beautiful, and as a lover, I liked to imagine making love with you, right?
Crazy stuff, I know, I know. If you’d ever gotten to this point, you might already have found the perfect “excuse” to quit. To think again that I have psychological problems.
I actually had them, I’ve had them for a long time.
You seem to be better off than me.
But you see, seeing you happy did my heart good, and it’s nice to be happy for people who at least seem happy.
And happiness is the best birthday present anyone can have,
I have been celebrating it for a long time, I feel worse and worse,
because I had to start working on myself, to find my freedom, my self-esteem, my autonomy.
It was difficult, it was tiring. Because I thought I really made you suffer, I started walking, I cried, I felt so much pain.
Something no one will ever know, not even you.
Even today if they mention the Radio to me, my heart takes a somersault, I pretend to joke about it but the truth is that being ironic about suffering always brings you that sense of bewilderment,
because it’s like laughing when you’re hurt, you do it while feeling pain.
You suffer a little, in happiness, because we know that life always gives us a good hit, and a bad one, it’s balance.
At least I think so, who now talk to people who have suffered like me, who seem to understand me, who know how to listen to me,
now I no longer want to go out with those I confided in before, now that after having stopped feeling bad, I realize that I was talking to people who didn’t understand, who also contributed to my suffering, after all.
I think I’ll go out less these parties, as I’m already doing. The others seem to enjoy wandering around these clubs forever, drinking.
I am tired, also because I no longer hear speeches that enrich me.
What the fuck did I do Ste? I’ve been talking to the wrong people for a long time, but in the end it wasn’t even easy to figure it out, now that I finally understand who I am, now that I finally understand what to do, my true nature.
Ste, I’m finally myself, and it’s as if I wasn’t before, not even when I was fond of you. But where is the truth? Perhaps it was a me who succeeded, the one today has so much difficulty doing it,
After all, how do you fall in love? It seems that I have somewhat forgotten it, by dint of being without it.
I wanted you to come back just to remind myself of having that feeling, which now feels so… barren.
But now I think differently, you know, I wanted to at least try to think of you as a friend, and I succeeded. So, you know, if the miracle ever happens that we talk to each other again, I could be your friend without any double purpose, let’s say. Although, well, even before I would say that it was so, even if only in part.
But you see, the fact that today I manage to be so happy for you smiling is already a sign for me, yes, that I love someone without having to be with you, as I do with many friendships that never happen to me again. to see, or in any case less than in the past.
Like the ones in Bologna, you know.
I still daydream about that city,
you seem to feel so comfortable here, in this city that I hate, where, however, once upon a time, I thought that if I had been with you, I would have gladly stayed.
You seem to be better than me,
it almost seems that you just need to block those who annoy you to move forward, it seems that you have forgotten me by now, shelved me, and you did well, so it must be done, I agree.
So I too went a little further, trudging, weaker and weaker, knowing my sufferings better and better than even if I wrote and described them millions of times in millions of different ways… whoever listens to them still wouldn’t understand them well, only I can to do it.
And I can’t forget you, after all it was the strongest experience, now, thanks to you I have conquered myself, you gave me the most important thing in life,
I don’t think I will ever be able to tell you live, even if the miracle happens, we will leave our past behind…
but thank you, Stef, from the bottom of my heart.
So happy birthday, best wishes, from the bottom of my heart.
You seem to be better off than me, I hope you really are, I hope you’re not in the middle of balls, I hope no one else makes you suffer, I know that to avoid doing it, by now, you “only” have to pay attention to who you hang out with.