Book: Give me your name

But if you remember everything, - burst from my tongue, - and if you are the same as me, then before you leave tomorrow, or when you are ready to slam the taxi door, saying goodbye to everyone, and there will be no more or understatement in this life in general, then - at least this time, even if it's a joke, even if it's too late for this - but turn to me, look at me, as when we were together, and it meant everything to me, hold my gaze and call me by your name.

We belonged to each other, but we lived so far away that we began to belong to others. Squatters, and only squatters, were the true claimants to our lives.

Time makes us sentimental. Perhaps, after all, it is time that makes us suffer.

were

I wanted to tell him that the pool, the garden, the house, the tennis court, the paradise and the whole villa would be his ghostly place. But he pointed up to the French windows of his room. Your eyes are forever there, I wanted to say, in the folds of tulle, staring intently from my bedroom, where no one sleeps now. When the wind blows and the tulle rises, and I look at it from here or stand on the balcony, I catch myself thinking that you are there, looking out of your world into mine and saying, as on that day at the stones: I

I wanted to be like soldiers in the movies that are out of ammo, throw the weapon, as if it will never be useful; or as fugitives in the desert, who do not save precious water, and give way to his desire, and in one gulp drained the flask, throw it away. But instead, I collected and stacked in the memory of sawdust memories, so that in the days of cold and longing to rekindle them and bring the heat.

My review whom, I soon left her and went down to the water. Happened exactly what I predicted would happen: I looked at the water that night and for a brief moment forgot that he's not here anymore there's no more need to turn around and look at the balcony where his image is still not erased. And yet a few hours ago, his body and my body... Now he's probably eating his second meal on the plane and preparing to land at Kennedy airport. I knew that he, too, was full of grief when the last time you kissed me in one of the bathrooms Fiumicino. And if at the airport and on the plane it could distract booze and movies, in a room new York city, left alone with yourself, sorrow overwhelmed him again. I didn't want to think about it is sad, because I knew he would be hated the idea of me is sad, in our bedroom, which soon became just my bedroom.

I've never been happy to day-dream so serene. "I will plunge into grief," I thought. The mountain had to come sure, maybe imperceptibly - so these things happen, as I have heard - and there will be no relief. Ignore it, thereby destroying. "It's a pathetic, cowardly act," I said to myself, knowing that I was the ACE. And if it is uncontrollably overwhelmed me entirely? If it is captured and not released? The grief that came to stay forever. If it did the same thing to me that I wanted to do with him during those horrible nights like took away some important part of my life, as part of the body, and losing Oliver is like losing hands? "You're going to see his Ghost everywhere in the house, and never come back. You lost it, you always knew I would lose, and prepared for it; but you can't force yourself to live with that loss. And hope not to return his thoughts to him - that is prayer is not to see about him the dreams. Both immensely hurt".

Like any lived experience that affects us to the end of the day, I found myself torn from the inside out, drawn and quartered. It was the result of who I was in life and even more: who I was when I was singing and putting out vegetables for his family and friends on Sundays; who I was when I woke up on a cold night and wanted nothing so much as a warm sweater, to get to the Desk and write about the man who, as I know, nobody knows, but that really was me; who I was, when I longed to be naked next to another naked body, or when I longed to be the only one in the world; who I was when I felt every part of his body at infinity from each other, and each piece thus swore, that still belongs to me.

I knew our minutes were numbered, but I don't dare to count them, because I knew where all this leads. I didn't want to notice the signs. It was a time where I didn't leave bread crumbs for the way back, instead I ate them. He could be a dick, he could change me, or permanently destroy, and the time and gossip in the future could gut everything that we shared and turn it into nothing, there would be only fish bones. I could miss this day, or to step over it, but I always knew that in these hours in my bedroom, I anxiously kept in memory each moment with him.

- When did you know about me? I asked him once. I hoped he would say: "When I squeezed your shoulder, and you almost want to go back to my hand" or "When you had a wet swimsuit in the day when we chatted in your room". Something like that.
- When you're blushing.

- I like the way you talk about things. Why do you constantly belittle yourself?
I shrugged my shoulders. He criticized me for self-criticism?
I do not know. But I hope you're not going?
- You're so afraid of what others will think of you?
I shook my head. In fact, the answer to the question I had. Or maybe the answer was so obvious that I'm not supposed to say. Sometimes we've slipped special moments, like this one, and I felt very vulnerable, almost naked. Push me, get nervous, and if I'm not going to push you back, you got me open, like a conch shell. No, I had nothing to say in response.

- You like being alone?
- No. No one likes to be alone. But I've learned to live with it.
- You always so wise?
- I'm not wise. I told you. I don't know anything. I know books and I know how to connect words together - it doesn't mean I know how to talk about things most important to me.
- But you're doing it now... in a sense.
- Yes, in a sense... so I always say about things: in a sense.

Just say something, just touch me, Oliver. Hold on me long enough and you will see tears in my eyes. Knock on my door at night and see if I have already opened it for you. Come inside. In my bed there is always a place for you.