Little BIG Memories (Love Version)
Little BIG Memories (Love Version)
My name is Luigi, I am 41 years old and every now and then I happen to remember past stories.
What can I say, my earliest memory - in the emotional field, of course - dates back to kindergarten. At the time there was a little girl I liked a lot, her name was Consuelo, and I liked her so much that I asked my mother, for the end of kindergarten play, to take a picture of us together. We were dressed for the play, multicolored in shorts and T-shirts, and we had a different colored flag in our hands. What a laugh, if someone had seen us from above, they would have thought "what the hell are they doing?". Unfortunately, Consuelo missed her that day, just the last day of kindergarten, the very last day when I wanted a photo of her with her. My first little disappointment, my first emotional memory.
From kindergarten we move on to elementary schools. I was in a well-matched class, we boys made a good herd and I must say - without boasting, as my mother says so too and the teacher said so too - that I was the smartest in the class. I enjoyed studying and I enjoyed helping my fellow students in difficulty with their homework. Sometimes I did my homework but for me it was not a sacrifice, and then I was repaid with friendship and esteem.
I remember Francesca… and yes, Francesca… the cutest in the class. A thin little princess, with a fine voice, but she was as pretty as she was. I liked her too much. She was always with her best friend Anna her, I remember her too because she was the tallest in the class. Her mother was Polish and therefore, for us Sardinians, she was almost a giant. She, moreover, she had a fair complexion and hair of a light hazelnut color, almost blond, therefore a little outside the typical Sardinian aesthetic factors!
In 5th grade, during a play, I took courage. I knew beyond 5th grade we were going to be separated to attend middle school, so I came up with a plan. The play involved the use of candles for part of the audience's schoolc***dren, and we, in fact, were part of the audience. While everyone had left the class, Francesca and Anna forgot the candles in the classroom. I followed them and showed my candle (without malice, what are you thinking?). It was a red candle, and it had screw grooves similar to the drill bit, if you know what I mean. Anyway ... Anna took the candle and left the classroom, while Francesca continued to look for it in the backpack. I walked over, showed her my candle. At that moment I made her rotate and told her "look, this candle will never end" (the optical effect during the rotation made the candle seem endless). While she watched the candle whirl, I gave her a kiss, and we stayed kissing for a few tens of seconds, until Anna came and saw us, she ran to call the teacher who came with the class in tow. And there the roar of my classmates, followed by the roar of the whole school. People cheering, whistling, the teachers upset and Francesca as red as a tomato, ahahahahah. What memories, good memories.
A few days later I gave Francesca a plastic bracelet, I think I found it in a packet of crisps. I told her that if she wanted to remember me, she should never take it off, and so she did the first time, she wore it on her wrist even in the shower. Until the mother noticed the bracelet, she asked her daughter about it and the next day she went to talk to my angry black mother, telling her that I had to stay away from her daughter, that her daughter was too young for this and bla bla bla.
Needless to say, my mother was on my side, but unfortunately Francesca had been banned from talking to me, and so she did until the end of the school year. I was really sick, it was a bad blow. Ok, we were young and unaware, but come on, in the end it was just a kiss, and all that mess about a kiss seems really absurd to me.
I met her a few times in middle school, but we didn't even say goodbye anymore.
Middle school was a real disaster, apart from the fact that I attended the extended time, so morning and evening, I had lunch at school and when we went out they would load us with homework.
Small note: I was in class with Consuelo, but I didn't like him anymore. The infatuation had passed.
After middle school, I went to high school. There were 19 of us in class, 2 of whom were boys (including myself), I was quite happy, but I soon realized that the classmates were "friends" as long as it was convenient (for homework), then whoever has seen has seen . So carrion them, carrion me !!! I said many no because I never liked being exploited, and some didn't take it well.
So ... in high school I can say that the only girl I looked at was called Ilaria. We were neighbors at the counter, she sat with her friend / partner Manuela.
Ilaria was not one of those flashy, femme fatale girls. She was a normal girl, soap and water. I remember that she wore very little makeup, the minimum essential. She was beautiful in her simplicity, and then I always hated girls who do nothing but talk about makeup and leave the house after taking a bath in a tub of perfume. She had medium long curly hair, just over her shoulders.
I think I've never seen her with a short dress, she always wore jeans and shoes between classic (casual) and sporty. Every day, before going to school, she went to the shop in front of the school and bought a stuffed sandwich. I don't know how she did it, sometimes the sandwich was bigger than her stomach. Despite this, she managed to devour him in 5 minutes. We had the same "landfill" metabolism, we can eat whatever we want without getting fat. The downside is hearing people "how skinny you are, but are you eating?".
Okay, I'm digressing!
So ... what else can I say? Nothing, I liked her in everything, in her voice, in her way of dressing, in her way of laughing, in her simple way of doing and being. And yes ... You will say: "This girl has stuck to your best finger". Well, why not say it? I had a crush on her.
She arrived in the last year of school, and - like in elementary school - I thought I'd give myself a move, otherwise I wouldn't have had other opportunities.
In that school year, the program envisaged attending 1 week in the morning and one week in the evening, and so on throughout the year. We were in winter, it was the week in the evening, and after leaving school, Ilaria and I went on foot to the bus stop. I didn't usually take the bus as my house is about 1.5km away. That evening Manuela was not there, so we chatted about this and that until the bus stop. It was dark, and I was a bit tired from school, but I thought that maybe it could be my chance as we were alone and ... in short, I had palpitations and adrenaline running high. Eheheheh ... blessed youth. Now I can't be so agitated anymore, but you know that when you are young everything is amplified. A range of emotions and the adrenaline pumping.
What I had not foreseen happened, Ilaria said to me “What are you doing? Are you going away? Don't leave me alone, it's dark, I'm afraid ”.
I took the ball, went back and told her that if she wanted I would keep her company. And from here I started with mental journeys. I wanted to talk to her, I wanted to take her hand, but more than anything else I wanted to kiss her.
Yeah, I wanted to. I really wanted, God knows how much I wanted. But nothing, a few seconds later the bus passed. I told her “don't take the bus, take the next one, I'd like to talk to you”. She said to me: “Do you want to talk to me? Let's do it tomorrow? I'm tired, I would like to go home ”.
I let her go, saw her get on the bus and sit down, the doors closed and the bus left, leaving me with a range of emotions that slowly vanished, like fireworks being fired, of which only the shell remained.
I turned and saw the bus shelter, it was a shelter made of aluminum. I didn't hit her, but I wanted so much to do it, I wanted so much to leave the mark of the fist so as to deform the aluminum (or end up in the emergency room, that's all).
It was a bad blow, but I tried other ways. For her birthday I had her send flowers, I still remember, they cost 50 euros, the monthly allowance my grandmother gave me. I was 15 and ½ years old at the time, why not accept pocket money? In the note that accompanied the flowers, I u*********sly wrote a sentence, but not my name. The next day Ilaria wondered who had sent her the flowers, and she talked assiduously with Manuela. I pretended nothing had happened until, a couple of days later, Ilaria made me write the same sentence.
I was not stupid, I knew where she was going, curiosity is female, and I played along.
From there I discovered my cards, she knew I had a crush on her.
I organized my last chance on the day of the final exam, so the very last day of school. As usual I thought I had foreseen everything, but it was not so, fate put the leg in it and I stumbled like a pear.
Once the exams were given, the last exam was for physical education, but since we males had a teacher apart, and the girls had a teacher, our teacher was still not seen. So the girls had finished taking their exams, and we boys had to wait for the teacher. I couldn't move from school, and I asked Ilaria if she could wait for me. I told her I wanted to talk to her, but she said she was tired, and she wanted to go home. Behind the window on the 2nd floor I saw her go down the steps with Manuela, go through the school gate and disappear.
I had just "burned" the last remaining opportunity, I don't know if it was the fault of the professor, if it was my fault or fate. Many say that destiny has a plan for all of us, many others say that destiny is what we create for ourselves. I don't know what to say, I can only say that I felt bad, very bad indeed ...
The professor arrived and I took the exam quickly. I left the school, looked into the shop, walked around the neighborhood, went to the stop, ran as much as I could, but she wasn't there. I did not find it. She was gone.
You know a punching bag? It is made to take hits. Here, in that exact moment I felt like this, a doormat, and I feel like this even now just thinking about it. Memories indelibly imprinted in my memory, memories that will keep me company as long as I live. Memories I have NEVER told anyone about, partly to avoid making the figure of a clumsy, partly for confidentiality.
Two months later, I called her. I was in the Oratory, and there was no one in the office. I called her home phone, and she answered it. I asked her if we could meet, to go out. She asked me: “go out in what sense? A classy pizza? ". I told her: "We two go out."
She - in response - told me that she could not because she was with a boy. I asked her which boy, if she had not dated anyone during her school years. And she said to me: "I've been with this boy since the day after the exam".
Okay, do you know a blow to the heart? Here, same thing, as if someone had shot me.
I don't know if this corresponded to the truth or if it was the last second lie, but of course it hurt me to death, and I spent the whole evening in a state of catalepsy. I looked at people but couldn't focus on what they were saying. I was thinking only of Ilaria and what she had told me. Years that I was the thread and then, on the phone, you tell me that you go out with someone else? But at least tell me to my face, so you can also use me as a doormat.
Obviously after Ilaria there were other girls, short stories that I don't even consider. I don't even remember the names of the others.
My name is Luigi, I am 41 years old and every now and then I happen to remember past stories.
What can I say, my earliest memory - in the emotional field, of course - dates back to kindergarten. At the time there was a little girl I liked a lot, her name was Consuelo, and I liked her so much that I asked my mother, for the end of kindergarten play, to take a picture of us together. We were dressed for the play, multicolored in shorts and T-shirts, and we had a different colored flag in our hands. What a laugh, if someone had seen us from above, they would have thought "what the hell are they doing?". Unfortunately, Consuelo missed her that day, just the last day of kindergarten, the very last day when I wanted a photo of her with her. My first little disappointment, my first emotional memory.
From kindergarten we move on to elementary schools. I was in a well-matched class, we boys made a good herd and I must say - without boasting, as my mother says so too and the teacher said so too - that I was the smartest in the class. I enjoyed studying and I enjoyed helping my fellow students in difficulty with their homework. Sometimes I did my homework but for me it was not a sacrifice, and then I was repaid with friendship and esteem.
I remember Francesca… and yes, Francesca… the cutest in the class. A thin little princess, with a fine voice, but she was as pretty as she was. I liked her too much. She was always with her best friend Anna her, I remember her too because she was the tallest in the class. Her mother was Polish and therefore, for us Sardinians, she was almost a giant. She, moreover, she had a fair complexion and hair of a light hazelnut color, almost blond, therefore a little outside the typical Sardinian aesthetic factors!
In 5th grade, during a play, I took courage. I knew beyond 5th grade we were going to be separated to attend middle school, so I came up with a plan. The play involved the use of candles for part of the audience's schoolc***dren, and we, in fact, were part of the audience. While everyone had left the class, Francesca and Anna forgot the candles in the classroom. I followed them and showed my candle (without malice, what are you thinking?). It was a red candle, and it had screw grooves similar to the drill bit, if you know what I mean. Anyway ... Anna took the candle and left the classroom, while Francesca continued to look for it in the backpack. I walked over, showed her my candle. At that moment I made her rotate and told her "look, this candle will never end" (the optical effect during the rotation made the candle seem endless). While she watched the candle whirl, I gave her a kiss, and we stayed kissing for a few tens of seconds, until Anna came and saw us, she ran to call the teacher who came with the class in tow. And there the roar of my classmates, followed by the roar of the whole school. People cheering, whistling, the teachers upset and Francesca as red as a tomato, ahahahahah. What memories, good memories.
A few days later I gave Francesca a plastic bracelet, I think I found it in a packet of crisps. I told her that if she wanted to remember me, she should never take it off, and so she did the first time, she wore it on her wrist even in the shower. Until the mother noticed the bracelet, she asked her daughter about it and the next day she went to talk to my angry black mother, telling her that I had to stay away from her daughter, that her daughter was too young for this and bla bla bla.
Needless to say, my mother was on my side, but unfortunately Francesca had been banned from talking to me, and so she did until the end of the school year. I was really sick, it was a bad blow. Ok, we were young and unaware, but come on, in the end it was just a kiss, and all that mess about a kiss seems really absurd to me.
I met her a few times in middle school, but we didn't even say goodbye anymore.
Middle school was a real disaster, apart from the fact that I attended the extended time, so morning and evening, I had lunch at school and when we went out they would load us with homework.
Small note: I was in class with Consuelo, but I didn't like him anymore. The infatuation had passed.
After middle school, I went to high school. There were 19 of us in class, 2 of whom were boys (including myself), I was quite happy, but I soon realized that the classmates were "friends" as long as it was convenient (for homework), then whoever has seen has seen . So carrion them, carrion me !!! I said many no because I never liked being exploited, and some didn't take it well.
So ... in high school I can say that the only girl I looked at was called Ilaria. We were neighbors at the counter, she sat with her friend / partner Manuela.
Ilaria was not one of those flashy, femme fatale girls. She was a normal girl, soap and water. I remember that she wore very little makeup, the minimum essential. She was beautiful in her simplicity, and then I always hated girls who do nothing but talk about makeup and leave the house after taking a bath in a tub of perfume. She had medium long curly hair, just over her shoulders.
I think I've never seen her with a short dress, she always wore jeans and shoes between classic (casual) and sporty. Every day, before going to school, she went to the shop in front of the school and bought a stuffed sandwich. I don't know how she did it, sometimes the sandwich was bigger than her stomach. Despite this, she managed to devour him in 5 minutes. We had the same "landfill" metabolism, we can eat whatever we want without getting fat. The downside is hearing people "how skinny you are, but are you eating?".
Okay, I'm digressing!
So ... what else can I say? Nothing, I liked her in everything, in her voice, in her way of dressing, in her way of laughing, in her simple way of doing and being. And yes ... You will say: "This girl has stuck to your best finger". Well, why not say it? I had a crush on her.
She arrived in the last year of school, and - like in elementary school - I thought I'd give myself a move, otherwise I wouldn't have had other opportunities.
In that school year, the program envisaged attending 1 week in the morning and one week in the evening, and so on throughout the year. We were in winter, it was the week in the evening, and after leaving school, Ilaria and I went on foot to the bus stop. I didn't usually take the bus as my house is about 1.5km away. That evening Manuela was not there, so we chatted about this and that until the bus stop. It was dark, and I was a bit tired from school, but I thought that maybe it could be my chance as we were alone and ... in short, I had palpitations and adrenaline running high. Eheheheh ... blessed youth. Now I can't be so agitated anymore, but you know that when you are young everything is amplified. A range of emotions and the adrenaline pumping.
What I had not foreseen happened, Ilaria said to me “What are you doing? Are you going away? Don't leave me alone, it's dark, I'm afraid ”.
I took the ball, went back and told her that if she wanted I would keep her company. And from here I started with mental journeys. I wanted to talk to her, I wanted to take her hand, but more than anything else I wanted to kiss her.
Yeah, I wanted to. I really wanted, God knows how much I wanted. But nothing, a few seconds later the bus passed. I told her “don't take the bus, take the next one, I'd like to talk to you”. She said to me: “Do you want to talk to me? Let's do it tomorrow? I'm tired, I would like to go home ”.
I let her go, saw her get on the bus and sit down, the doors closed and the bus left, leaving me with a range of emotions that slowly vanished, like fireworks being fired, of which only the shell remained.
I turned and saw the bus shelter, it was a shelter made of aluminum. I didn't hit her, but I wanted so much to do it, I wanted so much to leave the mark of the fist so as to deform the aluminum (or end up in the emergency room, that's all).
It was a bad blow, but I tried other ways. For her birthday I had her send flowers, I still remember, they cost 50 euros, the monthly allowance my grandmother gave me. I was 15 and ½ years old at the time, why not accept pocket money? In the note that accompanied the flowers, I u*********sly wrote a sentence, but not my name. The next day Ilaria wondered who had sent her the flowers, and she talked assiduously with Manuela. I pretended nothing had happened until, a couple of days later, Ilaria made me write the same sentence.
I was not stupid, I knew where she was going, curiosity is female, and I played along.
From there I discovered my cards, she knew I had a crush on her.
I organized my last chance on the day of the final exam, so the very last day of school. As usual I thought I had foreseen everything, but it was not so, fate put the leg in it and I stumbled like a pear.
Once the exams were given, the last exam was for physical education, but since we males had a teacher apart, and the girls had a teacher, our teacher was still not seen. So the girls had finished taking their exams, and we boys had to wait for the teacher. I couldn't move from school, and I asked Ilaria if she could wait for me. I told her I wanted to talk to her, but she said she was tired, and she wanted to go home. Behind the window on the 2nd floor I saw her go down the steps with Manuela, go through the school gate and disappear.
I had just "burned" the last remaining opportunity, I don't know if it was the fault of the professor, if it was my fault or fate. Many say that destiny has a plan for all of us, many others say that destiny is what we create for ourselves. I don't know what to say, I can only say that I felt bad, very bad indeed ...
The professor arrived and I took the exam quickly. I left the school, looked into the shop, walked around the neighborhood, went to the stop, ran as much as I could, but she wasn't there. I did not find it. She was gone.
You know a punching bag? It is made to take hits. Here, in that exact moment I felt like this, a doormat, and I feel like this even now just thinking about it. Memories indelibly imprinted in my memory, memories that will keep me company as long as I live. Memories I have NEVER told anyone about, partly to avoid making the figure of a clumsy, partly for confidentiality.
Two months later, I called her. I was in the Oratory, and there was no one in the office. I called her home phone, and she answered it. I asked her if we could meet, to go out. She asked me: “go out in what sense? A classy pizza? ". I told her: "We two go out."
She - in response - told me that she could not because she was with a boy. I asked her which boy, if she had not dated anyone during her school years. And she said to me: "I've been with this boy since the day after the exam".
Okay, do you know a blow to the heart? Here, same thing, as if someone had shot me.
I don't know if this corresponded to the truth or if it was the last second lie, but of course it hurt me to death, and I spent the whole evening in a state of catalepsy. I looked at people but couldn't focus on what they were saying. I was thinking only of Ilaria and what she had told me. Years that I was the thread and then, on the phone, you tell me that you go out with someone else? But at least tell me to my face, so you can also use me as a doormat.
Obviously after Ilaria there were other girls, short stories that I don't even consider. I don't even remember the names of the others.
3 years ago