The Sink Was Full Of Fishes

What an order it is in it...
Oh, well... I have always thought any man's room has to have something put higgledy-piggledy, testifying some inner indifference.I for once would hate to have a boyfriend much more tidy than I am, it would embarass me a lot.
There's just one wallpaper here, right in front of the door: Pamela Anderson; what an anticonformist, really! -then a cd tower that I have seen thousand times (so many great records, and he never listen to them!) a stunning stereo system which randoms no-less-than 50 (FIFTY!) cds and a mirror put on wheels really user-friendly with a space for the comb and with a support for clothes and shoes in the back side.
Imagine how he looks standing in front of this in the morning!
His desk is clean: no pics, no papers, just a fountain pen and an exotic paperknife.
Hasn't he some private life to show then? That drawer maybe... OKAY, JUST STOP MELI... Mine's foolness, what the hell am I doing here? What I am looking for? why Jill's starting to occupy stable my thoughts?
That's a simple answer, I need affection and I am searching for a pretext that could save me from Ste's nostalgia, I need to shed over others that love he refused but the point is: is that fair to look for others if it's him that I am in love with still?
I am missing air here.
Suddenly, this perfect room is like a trap spinning around me furiously with sadistic persistent running, and it talks with me of my pathetic behaviour.
I am out: I am sweating.
The door closing behind me,and now I face the corridor; as long and uneasy to walk in, like Overlook Hotel's back in force, endless, suggesting anxieties in its equalness within the cold silent house.
It fits my mood: oh God, why I am searching out for these troubles?
Why after all these steadfast self analyses I am comminating to myself I still see everywhere his lovely smile, hisbeautiful face, those eyes and I long for his promises like they could give me real happiness forever?
If I am falling in love, I'd like to stop it , now.
Just like when I was a middle teen and judging me horrible I was avoiding all deep contacts with males, refusing to show my heart to them, like they could exist individuals who are not searching for love, or mustn't obtain it undeserving care.
I came to be the best friend to all whom I was secretly in love with; satisfied with their platonic affection towards my burning heart since I was already sure I couldn't obtain anything more anyway. Then one of them, my greatest teenage love , one day pulled me in a corner and told me (he was ready to move to another town soon after that speech):
"It's so cruel to leave...I am not a good talker and I already want your pardon if what I am gonna say could offend you.. but I have reckoned these days that I like you and not only as friend, and the fact I won't ever see you again makes my leaving a tragedy i can't take for the pain it lends to my heart."
One single, sweet kiss of him over my front, then, throwed in pieces all my clueless assumptions of blind 15 years old...
I started to learn my lesson and tried to become more brave and sincere, firstly with myself. I became less circumspect I wasn't studying anynore other's ways to behave and preferences for please their characters, I just was trying to make everyone accepting me for what I am. I didn't get many stories like a sport to play, and I gained my good kicks too but from that day I never acted differently from what my soul was feeling actually anymore. Because I learnt they have to love me, not an illusion of me. Soon or later the right one would have come, don't you think?
Well, the right one has come already. I crossed him on a Gallipoli beach last year, in the holiday post-maturità, dressed like a trashy Yankee, totally bully and un-stylish.
First thought? It was something like "I am never gonna have anything to share with someone like that one!" and we drove our insterests during that holiday to reciprocal friends. He gained a refusal, I didn't, but it wasn't anything groundbreaking and we left one another promising to mantain links working between the two groups.
He started to call me a lot, and I was always loving his talks...without having real perceivement of this, I ended totally in love with the guy; after I knew that he was in love with me from the day we said bye on the Gallipoli beach. He wasn't at all like that stupid shallow man on the beach, he showed and proved me he was smart and sensitive, brilliant in thoughts and skills, and funny and careful too. With that kind of beauty which is under everyone's eyes, pleasant and refined, but not that massive to get paranoid about it. I was always able to open my heart to him in full, like a blessing touch.
I couldn't understand what he was liking in me, but the relationship started, in depth and force. Our parents were really perplexed and for months they were telling us that we should have considered the big difficulties in a far away relationship. "You're young, why won't you wait? this must be tricky.." Like youthness is not a reason to fight difficulties with, instead of bending in face of them...
Sadly, these continous question marks over our situation seemed to provoque some effect on Stefano's side: his studies at University were ready to be brilliantly completed, and in a little while he would have flied in USA to take a master degree. They would have been six months without practically seeing one another and he came with the news he was feeling fair in leving ME alone and free to be happy, instead of forcing my spirit to be caged with him and having no rewarding back. What an hypocricity!
"So come on, baby, tell it like it is instead!! You don't want to develop this, don't say you leave me for my own goodness damn!"
"You're not fair now: I wouldn't do any good on you in forcing you to wait for me while you're 19 and full of life, and I do know you would close yourself in the house for avoiding to see others without ending our story. But see it this way: if we are meant to be together, then one day we'll come together as an item again."