Milano

I had found out Chip had cancer again. That word, which had somehow given me my life just three years ago, was causing me to shake uncontrollably now. As I read his words, thanking me for my calls and apologizing for his lack of response, I started to sob and I just let the tears come. I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I cried and when the tears refused to stop, I made them. I took my hand and wiped around the bluish circles that had now turned red around my eyes, I put my boots and scarf on without thinking, grabbed my metro ticket and told Amy I was going to the movies.

She responded, immediately and honestly, “Are you gonna wear sunglasses?”

“No,” I answered not even flinching, “I don’t even think I can find the theater on my own, which is completely pathetic, I know. I just gotta get out of here, I can’t keep thinking about this.”

As I left my apartment, I pushed my legs, faster and faster toward the Lodi stop. My eyes dried but, my nose remained plugged and my heart felt heavy. My ipod played and before I knew it I was walking into the night at Moscova. My phone beeped, as it regained service and I read the message, “I love you so effin much.- amy”
‘I know…. thank god.” I thought as I found my way easily to the theater.

I got to the entrance and I picked up my phone and found my fingers dialing Paul. His sleepy voice answered and I wondered if I was bothering him. Paul is a guy who prides himself on being a little enigmatic. And with me, it seems as if we are constantly misjudging each other. We are never on the same page. He once said, “It creates good discussion, at least.”

He said he would meet me, if I was willing to wait for ten minutes. I said, yes and bought the tickets. The movie, a DeNiro-Pacino flick provided some of the escape I longed for. After, we ate elongated pizzas on wooden cutting boards, and for the first time in awhile, I found my voice with him. I was Rebecca. Yet, I was also keenly aware of the dynamics. I look at Paul and while, I appreciate his enigmatic style, I am not sure if we will really ever understand each other.

Which should probably be the essential question. Do you really get me? And the answer for both of us is, no. So, in this night, I sat with a sexy man and shared prosciutto and porcini funghi pizze. As we walked around the city, I couldn’t help but wish the world for him. He, who wonders if it is worth it to love again, who feels it is crazy to even ponder the fact that anyone could ever even consider marriage. He is so light he can barely sit for dinner. I sometimes feel so heavy I can hardly see the outside of my own heart.

Forever.

"Forever isn't long enough." I long to tell him, "Forever, wouldn’t be long enough, wouldn't be long enough to sit next to the person I love. Paul, find someone where infinity feels too small. Then, perhaps, you will know it is worth it to love again.

Yet, before I could speak, we were standing in the Piazza del Duomo staring at the gothic cathedral.

“You still want to stay the night up there?” He said, as he looked at the roof.
“Yeah!” laughing at the fact he had remembered, “The roof…” I said with a sigh, “Do you have a favorite sculpture?”
“Nah, I don’t think so. You?”
“Yeah, you should find one, they are amazing.” I said quietly, remembering the day I first saw it and then thinking of Amy who would painstakingly draw her favorites on our mornings on the roof.

The night would end shortly, with us heading home on different metros. I hugged him and said, “Thanks for being exactly what I needed.”

In his very non-chalant Paul way, he said, “No problem, it was fun.”