Sometimes they come back ... sometimes not. 10 months ago I left Italy with a lot of hope but few certainties.
10 months ago I left Italy with an emptiness inside that needed to be filled.
10 months I had one house, one family
He thinks, and do not even need to read it at his first post that opened this blog 10 months ago. The similarities with the current post could and should be found. The similarities with the current time you can find you, not me. Too many differences to see, even on the horizon, a simile. Now it's all gone, all gone. Now there are no hopes, only certainties. All hopes are gone, that have been fulfilled or not is another matter. Everything about the past ten months, it is a fact, a certainty. And if anyone wants to find the positive in this, come forward, because here the ideas are scarce. Maybe the "bright side" in a week week we will land, and this is the only hope that she can rush right now.
What remains instead of here are ten months of positive thoughts, one near the idyllic world, where everything is in place, as God (or me?) Commands (/ o). It remains this way the memory of an unparalleled experience that can not and will not ever be replicated. Like all dreams, even this did not a clear starting, but has a limited purpose difinite. An end that would be happy, but for many reasons humans can not but be sad, melancholic, nostalgic. And do not take this wrong, it's the truth. The truth is that this is not summer camp. This will not return next year. And this awareness does not help.
It helps, perhaps, the knowledge had no choice. In some cases, it's really better not to use its own assessment. And basically this is the only way to think about this whole situation, which otherwise would not have output. Excuse me, I never thought it would be this hard (even though I had been told before). I only hope that, like Texas and its people at that time helped me because I could feel this land as my house, we can find a real home in my old home.
At the end of all this, I want to thank all those for whom this blog exists. Father, mother, Intercultural, whoever gave me support during this adventure. And then my American parents, teachers, friends who were always close. All these people who, though never read this blog, will always have a special place down there, deep inside the organ that will tuttiu memory of you, until it stops beating.
With love,
Jacopo
