A string quartet performed next to one of the three fountains and I had the perfect soundtrack for the happiest time of the day.
I sat facing the musicians and let myself be invaded by that indescribable sensation. I wish I could feel that 24 hours a day. Nothing in the world matters when I’m in this trance. There are no problems, no fears, no tomorrow or yesterday. It’s wholeness and that’s it.
After listening to about six or seven songs, I wrote a post on Instagram to remember that moment and noticed a look searching mine. I knew he wanted an excuse to approach me, but I was very well accompanied by myself. I pretended not to notice and kept watching everything with my peripheral vision. I didn’t want anyone to enter my perfect world right now, but that stranger was already inside. It was impossible to ignore the annoyance he caused me.
Not Italians, I thought. I was fed up with their flirtatious behavior and malicious glances.
Tall, light-haired in a medium cut and wearing pants and button-down shirt with the sleeves folded. I could tell he was still staring. When the lady in the flowered dress left my side, he took her place immediately. I crossed my legs to the opposite side and started looking at the phone. If it were possible I’d have turned my back.
Then he leaned over and asked me the time in English. I answered looking at the watch on his wrist.
- That was a little ridiculous, wasn’t it? I’m Carlos. I could say my watch isn’t working, but I’m actually looking for a way to talk to you. What’s your name? – He said holding out his hand.
We started a formal conversation. He asked where I was from and what brought me to Italy. I just said that I was on vacation and he said he was from Milan and was in Rome for a professional meeting. I tried to show that I didn’t want to keep the conversation flowing, but I didn’t want to be rude, because he was being very polite.
Uncomfortably, I kept saying yes to everything he proposed. A drink at the restaurant across the square and a walk to the Vatican to observe the millimeter-calculated position of Michelangelo’s columns and statues. Luckily, he had a business dinner that very night before heading back to Milan. Cleverly, he asked me to write down his phone number and text him so he could save mine. If he had just asked for mine I’d have made up any number.
He said he’d try to get rid of his professional appointment as soon as possible to meet me before he went to the airport, but I was thanking all the saints in Italy, because if he invited me to dinner right then, I wouldn’t know how to refuse it, even though that was my only wish. He got into a taxi and I walked to Castel Sant’Angelo, disturbed by my difficulty in saying no.
Why? How hard is it to refuse anything that makes me uncomfortable? I could’ve been polite as soon as he introduced himself and said I’d rather be alone.
A young girl played the violin between a bridge and the castle and I felt at peace again. I stared at a waning moon in the blue sky saying farewell to the lilac that the last rays of sunlight had left on the horizon and abandoned those questions.
When I was able to access the internet, I had two messages on WhatsApp. Carlos said he was delighted to meet me and asked me to meet him at 8pm in front of the Pantheon. Couchsurfing’s Matteo gave me an address near where I was. “We’re drinking beer in this bar. My Russian guest is here too. ”
I thanked Carlos for the invitation, but I said I had already made another appointment. I put the directions of the bar on the map and left to meet the unknown photographer and his Russian friend.
Another old, lighted maze full of little tables and flowerpots. A perfect place to get lost in Italy. When I arrived at the address, several groups were chatting happily holding glasses of craft beer in their hands.
It was a very fun night, even though I didn’t have a penny for beer.
38 – THE PAIN IN SAYING NO
I spent the day visiting the Palatine Hill and the Colosseum and then we met, Matteo and I, in the late afternoon, on the same bridge near Castel Sant’Angelo. He drove me to a large square where a curious line of people awaited to look through the lock of a huge blue-painted wooden gate. We stood in line while he hoped I wasn’t disappointed by the secret that keyhole would reveal.
When it was our turn, he looked first to make sure the light was still good.
I looked through the keyhole and was surprised by the vault of St. Peter’s, distant, illuminated by the colors of the sunset and set in a beautiful garden. It was impossible to capture that image with the camera on my cell phone, so I looked very closely, hoping that mental photograph would never get out of my memory. I’d like to paint that canvas, but the colors of my mind aren’t the same as my eyes could see.
Matteo thought of an incredible tour for that night. We watched the sunset from a tree-filled belvedere with only a few tourists and had dinner in a garden on the banks of the Tiber River. We drank wine and he told me about his work as a photographer. After dinner he invited me to his house and I found myself faced with the challenge of saying no.
Quietly, I reminded him of what I had already said in our message exchange. I accepted the invitation to go for a walk with him, but nothing else would happen between us. He insisted once more and it pissed me off, not at his insistence, but at my difficulty in saying no.
In Rome I was much more aware that saying no to men was a big challenge for me. Realizing the feelings that overwhelmed me when someone insisted on a yes from me was disturbing. It wasn’t clear yet what led me to violate my will and always say yes, but it was the beginning of an important process.
39 – FISHING AND THE NECESSARY GOODBYE
I traveled for 25 hours on a Flixbus bus to return to Germany. I climbed all over Italy and went through the beautiful snowy mountains in Switzerland until I reached Frankfurt, where I faced another 2 hours trip by train to the tiny Bingen am Rheim, my friend Michael’s home, Mika.
A co-worker of his picked me up by car at the train station and dropped me off at the apartment. Mika was on a business trip and would arrive the next day. I took a long shower and, exhausted, I fell asleep immediately. I slept more than 12 hours straight and woke up to the feeling that I was even more sleepy than before bedtime.
When Mika arrived in the late afternoon, we went for a walk in a park around the Rhine. He took his fishing gear and the intention was that we could fish our dinner. We talked a lot and I told him the whole story of the divorce. Mika met Felipe and was perplexed by the plot. I was no longer angry, but I hadn’t resignified everything within me yet. It was a story from my past that I could tell without emotion but it still affected me. I didn’t like people to see my Felipe as a villain, because every villain has a victim and I definitely didn’t think I was a victim anymore. So, I even avoided giving him too many details.
Without fish, we went to the supermarket and I cooked our dinner that night and the others that came. We had beer on the porch and the German taught me how to roll a tobacco cigarette.
The apartment was small. Just one bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and balcony. He made a camping bed next to the window and we slept in the same space. Every morning I woke up to the smell of fresh coffee in the German flag-colored mug. I made scrambled eggs and Mika went to work. I did the dishes, meditated, and went for a walk around the town.
Every day he taught me how to fish during sunset, but none of us could catch anything but little minnows. That was the reason for a lot of laughter and a bit of disappointment on his part, trying to convince me that he was a great fisherman by showing me pictures of huge fish. I never doubted his talent and sometimes I even thought it was my energy that didn’t contribute to such a catch actually happening.