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When life gives you lemons, make lemonade

sunny 28 °C

I admit. I'm bad. It's been too long. I've had three drafts of blogs so far but I had to rewrite it all.
Isn't it amazing how you can sit and write and then one day, you look back and think, what was I thinking???
And so... I have edited the story of my life recently.

The week of June 6th, life gave me lemons.
Once again I headed to Italy - this time for the Venice Art Biennale. And while I was there, a stop in Milan.

I have to say, for three months, there was nothing but anticipation and longing to see one another again.
I felt the extreme highs of desire and the lows of having nothing in my hand to hold on to!

But still, I let myself feel. I let myself enjoy the affection I was getting despite the distance that was killing me and obviously not giving me anything of what I want and need.

Days before my stomach was turning and so nervous. I could barely eat, barely sleep.
I thought 'this time I have to say what I want and what things are looking like for me. Maybe consider a summer course in Italian?

The whole time - three months' time - he wasn't able to come, promised 'to make his way to me as soon as practicable' - how lawyer-like. Thinking I'm a client?

The day came. CDG to MXP. There I was. Nervous as if for an interview with no explanation why.
I arrived around noon just for a couple of hours for lunch before continuing to Venice.
Truth be told, I would have not gone otherwise. I was acting on principle of not going and I still believe I did the right thing.

After Venice, which was GREAT in every sense - culinary, culturally and socially, I headed to Milan. Again, nervous like crazy!

Four days in, I proposed an opera the coming Saturday night. I got a call in the afternoon, general talk and then "I got your email but I didn't understand". He told me he had plans to travel, that he told me this, and that he won't be here this weekend. I was at a shop, about to buy him a gift for his desk at work, just to say 'thanks' when this call came. Obviously I put down the idea and jetted out of the store.

We did mention a chance he might have to go and I said it would be alright, but he never mentioned it again, never confirmed or said anything so I figured the work trip might have been cancelled. Didn't mention one word.

My intestines were on a roller coaster ride that week. It's crazy. Same night we meet up for drinks - I am 1.5 hours late. Served him right. I waited three months. And the conversation began for reasons even now I don't understand. What the hell was going on? And it went from strange to bad to blunt to hurtful. The next day, after what seemed to be a clear admiration for one another but with a civil understanding of the situation, he tried to be gentle and kind and said "I hope you understand what I was trying to tell you last night". I didn't reply. I barely spoke that morning. Huh??? We parted but we didn't part. We said bye but what the hell was happening. It is so f&#$ing weird. F@#&.

That afternoon, I came back to get my bag after he called to see where I was. Something told me that even if he gets caught up with work and isn't going on this "work trip" as planned, I have to get my stuff out. ASAP. I texted him, said I was going to collect my things. I did and that was it. He called and called and called. I didn't pick up. Nothing. Two days later, before my flight, I rang once to do a reconciliation and a goodbye. He didn't pick up. I cried the whole flight home. And I cried myself to sleep. This was only one month ago.

So I get back to Paris and all I can resort to is work. My only escape. Still, waking up in the morning to perform my tasks - brush teeth, open the closet and stare into space, try a new blush just to change the look, put on some jewelry, figure out the shoes, grab something to drink and out the door. I couldn't do any of those. I was so confused and didn't understand anything. Nothing. All of a sudden everything you see in front of you is not what you see. You dont know what you're even looking at. It took a lot of effort but I drowned in endless work hours, meeting deadlines, showing progress, bringing results. Modestly speaking, I did an awesome job at the event I put together and it was a great, fulfilling success.

Looking back it was a big mistake. Better for it to have faded naturally into nothingness than meet up again, my trolley packed with clothes and anticipation.

And now, you won't believe it but I am sitting in a piazza in Milano, closing my first week here as an Italian student this month. Studying 3 hours in the morning and working the afternoons and taking in the city at night. Alone. You can't imagine how many people you meet having an aperitivo solo. Quite surprising. And well, this is Milan.

I've started an Italian course - intermediate, mind you! Everyday for three hours I indulge in a language that sounds like a song, like you're living in a movie. Absolute fantasy and mindscape from anything real. In the afternoons, I check into my cafes and sit to work, sometimes captured by my laptop screen, other times drifting away to people-watching and talking with fellow coffee-drinkers working remotely as well.
One of them is quite a lovely lady from Osaka who is studying Italian - speaks very very well - and with whom I had the chance to speak about life on the other side of world.

And when the evening comes, I put this source of living with which I write on the side of the bed, get dressed and go out. You don't know where the evening will take you here. So far, it has been quite interesting. I have met more new people in one week than I have met other cities over longer periods. They aren't friends, but new acquaintances and kind people are a rare gem in any modern, individualistic-minded city. For a solo single girl residing here for 3 weeks, this is definitely the place to enjoy. It doesn't get any better than this.
Actually, it could but I'll take the good from what I get.

I went to see the famous Cenacolo at the Santa Maria delle Grazie yeterday. After ridiculously tight security and oxygen-less halls that make it seem you're wandering into a prison as opposed to a museum (super claustrophobic), I stood before the great Da Vinci. Seriously, I had tears in my eyes. It was amazing! The precision, the mind, the skill, the eye, the talent, the beauty. Really incredible and something I will remember for a long time. And today, the city museum of Milano.

My lemonade is lacking a bit of sugar. So I'll try to add some.
I have no idea what's in store. We never ever do. So I will leave it open for more to come...

Posted by enoura 00:44 Archived in Italy Tagged venice milan

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