The First Door
It’s a mid-spring morning at school: I leave the classroom with the excuse of not feeling well and walk through the hallway. As I walk downstairs, I come across a teacher I’ve never seen before: She looks at me like a mother stares at her son after he’s done something wrong, but I act like I didn’t notice her: God only knows what’s weird in a seventeen years old guy with a hat wearing second hand clothes. I reach the reception, tell the custodian I’m not feeling well, sign a paper I don’t even read and reach the exit.
I open the door: It’s a beautiful day outside, the birds are singing, but I feel the cold deep winter inside me, a cold that could freeze the birds and make them fall on the ground in pieces. It’s one of those moments where you have to make a decision you don’t want to make, leading to the only choice left after years of trying to find a way out of a situation that just got worse the more the time passed by. I take a last look at the school hall, and close the door: The noise generates an echo inside the room that resounds in my head like a desperate scream, the final word in a chapter that lasted too long.
I couldn’t realize how long that winter would have lasted inside of me.
The typical chaos of the Rome airport slaps us in the face as we get inside Terminal 3 of what is probably one of the most confusing places ever built. I already know where to go: immediately on the right and then straight on through a dark hallway with a light at the end coming through the doors that looks like a way out of a cave: we walk hand in hand, slowly as two survivors after a storm. In only two weeks we lived a roller coaster of emotions, between love, sadness, laughters, lies, and confusion: fifteen days that lasted like an year, the feeling you get when you can’t emotionally go any lower (or higher).
We reach the entrance of the security control that’s confined by two doors, where she will enter to fly back to her country and I will remain and try to understand what happened and what we actually did to create such a situation; We took the risk to give each other our hearts to fill an empty space inside of us, to put an end to the pain of our lives, trying to fight destiny as we saw the flicker of a dream and forcedly tried to make it become reality. But you can’t trick or get shortcuts in life, and even if you try, it will be ready to kick you in the teeth and send you even lower from where you came from.
We hug each other without saying a word: she’s in tears, I don’t have the force to pull them out. Sometimes, some things get so absurd, so impossible to even tell, that it’s really hard to realize how you got to that point: Like a little stone innocently falling from the top of a mountain suddenly becoming a huge boulder as it reaches the valley.
She says we must stay in contact, I agree with her, but it’s a forced answer: I know it would make things even worse and amplify the pain. Because it’s obvious that this is the last time we will see each other: It’s not a conviction, it’s a clear fact, it’s life delicately pouring this evidence in your mind and giving a signal through your soul: You just know it’s going to be like that.
We kiss each other as if we were closing this confused circle made of madness and raw emotions. Then she starts walking through the sliding doors: As everyone kindly does in her country, she turns in my direction several times and waves her pale and gentle hand at me, the hand I hold in those beautiful nights looking in our eyes between neon lights and silent parks.
The doors close, her silhouette disappears: I will never see her again.
The Glass Door
It’s seven in the evening, another day at work is over, and I’m about to leave this warehouse that can’t hold nothing but bad memories. As I realize I’m free, he annoyingly shouts one last “wait, we have to move this piece over there”. We grab the glass together, the last one for me: I can feel its heaviness summarizing the past eight years of my life spent inside this place, between fights and sweat poured on the ground for a pay and a life that no one would have ever accepted: Sometimes that’s what motivates you even more to reach your dreams and goals. We move the piece at its place, I walk towards the door and open it: “I’ll see you later” I say.
I close the door, its metallic sound marking the end of another chapter: It was over.
As you close a door, another one opens.