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Benvenuto nel blog della Scrivente Errante! 

Uno spazio dove conoscere una Mamma, AUTRICE degli ARTICOLI e delle RECENSIONI che troverete su questo blog, appartenente alla generazione dei Millennials di due bambine Cosmopolite, a cui spero di poter dare gli strumenti per realizzare i loro sogni ed essere FELICI! 

NOT NECESSARILY

  • Immagine del redattore: Mafalda
    Mafalda
  • 29 giu 2018
  • Tempo di lettura: 3 min


Yes, I was bitterly disappointed about you. I believed on your kisses, I believed on your ceremonies. I shared with you a song after the first, unforeseen kiss: I believed you were a good laddie, I believed that you liked me. Immediately I shared this important event with my best friends, with my family: I was so happy about that! Doesn’t matter if you were from another country, another continent, I was like a naïve child, I believed that finally love knocks even to my door! I admit, I had plans for our future, I saw you and I grow old, despite all difficulties of the time.

Just after a kiss. Only a kiss. I was not afraid of anything, and I was waiting the right moment to admit to you that I had a present for you. You will be the man that I was waiting for all my life, I wanted share with you the most precious moment of the life of a woman.

That’s was the moment of the bigger delusion. I still remember your reaction. I told the closest friends that you became white, and your skin is black. There, you broke my heart for the first time.

The second time happened when I said you that I wanted to continue our weird friendship, and you told me that it was a mistake. A mistake? To kiss someone else near the seesaw not only one day. Write her to sleep because she worked in nightshift. Tell her: “I miss you” when you met her after a few days. Speak with her watching her in the eyes. Asking her a kiss on the lips and be sad because she gave you a kiss on the cheek. You broke my heart for the second time.

But you broke my heart another time. I tried to speak with you. I send you a letter, but you refused it. I wrote you a message, but you deleted me everywhere. No greetings, no hello, nothing. I was suffering about that. My life goes on with other men, other trouble, but my heart was bleeding.

I wanted to tell you I love you in your language, but you never taught me. It was a clue that you were not interested on me. I had to figure out you, instead to felt in love so deeply. How many tears for you I dropped on my pillow. You don’t know. You really don’t know anything about me. When finally, I found the man who really is in love with me, how was hurting and contorted the process to trust on him.

I wanted to do everything with you, but you just want play with me. For you I was just a toy, only a balloon. I believed on you and you misled me.

I don’t want to tell you that you are the same with the other girls. Given that you build a wall between us instead to try to keep a friendship with me, I am sure that you are done that mistake for a cultural revenge. For a joke. Nothing more. No feelings, nothing else. Just a revenge.

I can forget everything, but I cannot forgive you.

At the end, I want to thank you because I tell my true love I love you with another awareness. I was alone before you, I was alone after you. I was sure to be lonely for all the rest of my life, and instead I met a man who kiss me in another way of you, but this time he wanted really kiss me because he really likes me. He loves me.

I am his everything and he is my everything. We laughed together. We talked together. We plan our life together.

That’s love. All I need is love in this life. And now I have this love. Not just an unrequited love. A love in which the feeling that I send to another person comes to me back.

 
 
 

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