Aphorisms Towards Neverland There are stories that, despite their beauty edapparentemente without any reason, remain hidden for a lot of time by orimangono the narrow confines of an area.
I was on holiday in the Azores Islands in the Atlantic Ocean, when chatting with the wife of an old fisherman came to my conoscenzadella story of a countryman, shipwrecked on an island nearby qualcheanno ago. Remained on the island for a long time without any hope Diesse found, had written alcunelettere, had bottles and had left them in charge of the mare.Qualche months before my arrival, a child was found on a spiaggial'ultima series of bottles made by the sea. Quindiorganizzate were several expeditions in search of this man. A particolareapprodò in an island where they were found a few notes of a man who potevaessere Gabriel.
That old then told me the story of the man, romanticized by what they learned from the letters and findings. I paretremendamente beautiful and we want to tell you today, offering mieparole the voice of the man who lived as a last tribute to his life.
Primocapitolo
I was a normal man before. A man who wore his outfit ognimattina manager, made of dark pantalonegrigio jacket, white shirt and black tie, and went to work. Working eraper me to participate in committees, boards of directors, meetings, without cheavessi more the perception of doing something constructive siera lost that feeling with the memories of the years when I was doing research at the University.
I was a normal man before. Normal in a separate miostatus, who has spent far too long a time to finish chiedersidove began my sins and those of others, always striving ASCUS others and take on the sins that I had not committed. So, oramaiavevo lost everything I had more expensive and I did not care much diavia a fault or more in all.
It was by chance that the second anniversary dellamia separation touched my thought to make a change to my life. Fuprima like a small feather that tickles the soul and then a boulder on his head and tuberculosis plant oppresses you. It was my desire to sail the sea cheprese foot inside me almost unexpected, as when a boy went incima the pier early in the morning to see the vessels fell from their long nights of moisture esalsedine.
I did not drive a sailboat, but I dissiche this could not hinder my desire to escape the world. Cosìcercai agencies that rent sailboats with skipper and I presiqualche day off to visit them.
It was only after several attempts I could atrovarne one that was willing to rent a sailboat for a trip and destination Didur unlikely, but the skipper was more difficult to find, the agency told me that his skipper would have hardly aderitoall'iniziativa, because they had all alternative work potevosentirmi free to live and, while they did their investigation, to find unoper on my own.
So I went to the harbor and I put in unbar. I got a cappuccino, and began to talk about my journey trying diattrarre some prey in my web. Nothing, then and there and so I left Ilmio phone and I went to sleep in a hotel.
I spent the morning on the pier to watch lebarche going and returning, building slowly in the mind steps Delmi trip. In the evening I went to the bar and sat down at the same counter giornoprima.
I sat for about an hour to drink a birradavanti a window to peek at the seagulls and the sea, when avvicinòun tall, thin man, his face a bit 'pock-marked, his hair matted on his head. He wore a long raincoat with the collar turned up and a shirt bianca.In hand waving a sailor's hat. Straight out of a classic delfumetto. The sailor and navigator solitary gentleman par excellence CortoMaltese. This inspired me to perhaps an innate sympathy.
- They say that you are looking for a skipper
- Who says?
- Angel, what is the bar.
- And who is the skipper?
- I, like, Max
- Enjoyment, Gabriele.
not remember how long we spent in that bar.In not really chatted much: after the initial pleasantries aimed at capirel'esperienza as skipper of the stranger among us is established unsilenzio accomplice, acceptable to both. He also told not willingly, farms in the eyes as it were his great passion for the sea, its travel perchèparlado bright light illuminating them from within.
For my part I told him about my project elui not laughed, but I made an appointment for the following unasettimana every day, in order to plan your trip in detail: trip, stops, food, other supplies, all things that in my naivete marinaiobambino I could not imagine.
always spent a week together, oall'agenzia the bar to watch the boats and choose our own. A little 'Misenta usurped in my dream: I was not alone in wanting to escape from realtá.Avevo found a worthy companion travel, which I had not even imporreil silence for the contract, because he had already chosen as his life caratteristicadi.
chose the date and the boat nemmenobisogno without arguing. Between us there was an unexpected harmony. Ilproprietario repainting the boat was just when we went to Alaska, the deposit and asked me how I wanted to call it. - Karystos - glidissi, in honor of my mother, of Greek origin, the grandson of an antiquarian diAtene.
We left on June 20 of that year. Not avevorimpianti and something told me that after all also my traveling companion avevaqualcosa warm to leave firmly anchored on dry land.
Secondocapitolo
That morning we set sail soon. Were they lequattro morning. The air was fresh and crisp. The sea was calm, despite a slight breeze stirred the waves there.
I found almost immediately was perhaps have a nickname for Max, but only see me on that boat with him brought me back to the memory iltempo immediately after the death of my father when I was nine. Ricordomolto not him, but remember that no one told me it was dead. That particolarelo discovered many years later. I was not present at his funeral as a result, even if you think about it I never went to funerals of my relatives.
so successful that any day he was permanently gone. It could have gone out, he could have escaped commonly women, could be anywhere else. I just knew that was not CONM and I was missing. It was not a rational feeling as it can be adesso.Era feeling in half, the feeling that something just around nonc'era, was the face of a sudden I felt his hand on his shoulder perpoi discover that it was nothing. It was to hear his voice calling me. Eral'immaginarlo before school, outside the football field, all in quellesituazioni which I was accustomed to his presence. And notice that nonc'era, that feeling of being abandoned, was a sensazioneindescrivibile.
Perhaps it was because I could not go crazy chearrivò Tuod. He spoke to me in the evening when I was in bed, his head on the pillow, he opened his eyes in the dark. He held my hand when I was scared. I gliraccontavo of my sporting victories, quarrels with my mates and he miascoltava and above all I understand. As my father would have understood if fossestato there.
This strange relationship between two people between me and Max miriportò because at that time and was almost by accident that when put put to it in case I turned to him as Tuod. Max said nothing. Accettòsemplicemente that role, despite not knowing how many bloody essoportasse memories behind. I think I have more called Max from day one that ciconoscemmo.
Tuod gave me instructions on what dovevofare, despite my protests that I had paid him for guidarmisenza having to lift a finger. As it seemed not to hear, I had to learn abestemmiare in the language of sailors, some with strange names calling buffioggetti present on the ship.
We took off and my emotion was grande.Sentivo a bit 'of fear inside of me, but pushed back down together to the node chemi was forming in my throat at the thought that this trip would not return anchepotuto. There was no one to greet me on the pier, if not a vecchiopescatore. He gave me tenderness seen from afar, sitting on the wet wood, commonly fishing rod in one hand and the other in the air that seemed scacciaremosche. I realized too late to anger, which in fact he stavasalutando Tuod, not me. There was nobody on the pier, but maybe I dovutoimmaginarlo, as anyone I said that I was leaving, if not alResponsabile Human Resources of my company and all'AmministratoreDelegato. For everyone else I was on a mission somewhere.
The first few days spent serene. Sembravaquasi a boat trip whatsoever. I spent my free time left daimestieri Tuod that I gave, sunbathing completely naked. I love tan: it's my main feature. I often notice people only quelloe for the stark contrast between the color of my skin and that of my occhi.Il my Corto Maltese, however, avevaocchi only for the horizon and sometimes they rested on the curves of flying that qualcheoccasionale offered to our sight from time to time, quandocapitava to meet other boats. Not that I'm not interested unconditional normal: it's just that I really want to disconnect from all cioce until then I was obsessed, especially working women.
The route we followed took us versoGibilterra and from there we started our journey more difficult Latraverse Atlantic. Not deny that scared me a bit 'that company, but when I was talking to Tuod his reaction was always so quiet, that I finally convinced me that I should not even staring over tantosull'argomento.
fuimpegnativo The passage through the strait, most of what he wanted me to believe Tuod and conseguenzainiziai to properly weigh all the opinions expressed its relatively alviaggio. I had seen some 'difficulties in some points and my aiutoera was crucial to ensure that we crash into some rocks. Miconvinsi at that moment that I just had to ask for a license nauticaper warranty, but much much more.
Just past the strait and recovered the calm, Tuod asked me to take the helm, because he had to go down to study lemappe. I put my hands on the wet wood with some fear, by engaging almassimo to pursue his claim to "go straight". Inrealtà Tuod had ignored the fact that "straight" has sensoquando have benchmarks against which to move, but immediately lost meaning for unapersona on a boat in the middle the sea, in fact, that water around. The dubbiverso Tuod increased as time passed and he did not riemergeva.Iniziai also wondering why he had accepted that trip and I ask ripromisidi at the earliest opportunity, so now we were on that boat and nonpotevo do without him, whatever he had confessed .
After about two hours Tuod finally emerged EFEC motioned to sit down. He took the helm and looked at me for a while 'before diiniziare to speak. I did not like her look, but I sat down and aspettaicompunto you decide to talk.
- We're in trouble! - Dissead some point.
- What makes you think? -I asked naively.
- lemappe I studied a lot before you go and I felt like I spoke avertene.
- What?
- After volevoscendere Gibraltar south to the Tropic of Cancer in the 70th meridian; puntoavremmo then veered northward until it meets the Gulf Stream ciavrebbe that led to the east coast of the United States, in baiadell'Hudson. There we would stop a few days. I calculated that perhaps cisarebbero took about twenty days.
- What has changed? It exposed America? - Said with his usual humor that gets me when vogliocombattere fear.
- There's a hurricane. Dobbiamoandare north.
- Come ... no?
- I dislike ... well we should follow the coast to the north of Spain and then break away ... mac'è the Coast of Death, I do not like that area.
- What is the Costa Dellamorte?
- It lies between La Coruna eCabo Fisterra. Cabo Fisterra is the culmination of the Way of Santiago.Prende the name "Finis Terrae", the end of the earth, because it was erroneamenteritenuto the head to the west of Spain. It 's a rocky promontory with digranito thousand feet high, scary ...
- Tuod Have you been there?
- vogliotornare Yes and no ... I was on vacation with my brother and his wife. I used to skipper.
chiederglipiù He stopped suddenly and I did not want anything. After a while, 'the silence that had become unwieldy, taken aparlare:
- So what do you do? We can not disengage from the coast first?
- We are a bit 'stretching risalendo.Stiamo ... for this I am afraid I should stop before lasciarela coast to the Atlantic. But I studied the map and maybe, if you like, we can make a stopover in the Azores. There are about fifteen hundred kilometers daLisbona and nearly four thousand from the United States. We should do it first chel'uragano arrive there. We stop and when everything is quiet siriparte. What do you say?
- E 'safe?
- Hurricanes They may also be undermining the weather man does to them. We will be Conle ears open to hear all the reports and correct the route for good.
- But we can not avoid the saliresu Spain Costa de Morte?
- Look, I accettatoquesto work because I need to get rid of that memory. I want ciritrovi smashed against?
- andareincontro And you want a hurricane just because you do not want to admit a mistake?
- Who the fuck says that hosbagliato I?
- Look, do not veniamofuori fighting. Let's do this. Let's see what the probability is greater disuccesso: Azores with the hurricane that awaits us with open arms or Death Costadella passing off. He studied both solutions and then neriparliamo.
- I said to lacoste of Death I go. Do you carry if you want to Spezia.
He went down leaving me sitting next altimone.
I stood up without knowing what fare.Dovevo still go right? Good grief! In that situation I was kicked out! That I could lead my group of men tirelessly to Lamet and that I as an example throughout the company as the "Captain", ilcapo that everyone wanted, I was now not knowing how lasituazione manage without the necessary skills to fend for himself.
After all, what risk? In danger of dying, I had already put maquesto account, no? Who faces a trip with a stranger who seems questaportata Corto Maltese and his name is Tuod of certonon can hope to get nice clean and combed the bottom of the journey senzanemmeno a scar.
- From Tuod, come on. Siva to the Azores. What did you say the name of that place?
TerzoCapitolo
Tuod had calmed. The idea of \u200b\u200bpassarenei near the Coast of Death had really upset. Davveroche I thought if I had forced that option, Once berthed miavrebbe planted there and would go away. Thus the improved atmosphere between Dino. The weather was good, the sea calm enough, the ventoabbastanza high to sail us toward our goal remains neitempi Tuod that was given.
What happened so we colsecompletamente aback. It happened one night. I woke perchèsentivo the boat swaying more than usual and my stomach eravicino in the toilet to empty the entire dinner. I got up trying to reach latoilette, but as soon as I set foot on earth I was beaten and fell completamentedall'altra part. As I tried to get up I took a series They say you vomit and show you the savings that resulted, because I'm sick iostesso remember. I shouted the name of Tuod, hoping I hear. Noncapivo where he was, but I wanted him there with me, to reassure me that everything stavaandando for the better and it was just a sea a bit 'bigger than usual. Tuodnon answered me, that I realized I had to get up. I made my way now Conlie stomach going up and down on his own every minimosbandamento the boat. I grabbed the handrail of the stairs and I took up erimasi property to see a show that had not already piùnulla human now. Reverse Tuod was under sail: it must have been shot in the testamentre tried to maneuver and was lying unconscious, face down. Around noic'erano of giant waves, as the highest mast of the ship.
am not a man who is afraid to normal. The vitain fund has prepared me to not be afraid of what others usually possonotemere. I do not feared death, perhaps because of the experience of my father's death for me was just empty, and had no stains or foschedell'inferno the brightness of heaven. I suffered from vertigo, but not perquesto I pulled back from breathtaking landscapes or business .. There was unacanzone saying that vertigo is not fear of falling, but wants divolare. I was not afraid of being robbed at night when I came home dasolo nor I was afraid of guns. Maybe it was my unconsciousness or perhaps erasolo knowledge that ultimately the worst thing that could happen was porrefine to suffering on this earth. Forever.
Yet what I saw was the imprinted mieiocchi and hurt me inside. I knew to be faced with something that I do not avreipotuto control. I knew that whatever I decide difare I could, I would not have decided for my life or my death, nor for that diTuod. It made me fear my own resignation in the face of the horror dellanatura. Contrary to this thought, was the instinct to guide action. I tried to drag Tuod deck, but at some point the boat sirivoltò and I was not able to hold with my hands, despite the avessimessa us all and even more, the one hundred and eighty to eighty pounds of suocorpo cm. I saw him slide slowly and saw my body go in there perafferrare hem of pants, a lock of hair, whatever chepotesse contribute to keeping his body on the boat and his life sullaterra.
slipped slowly. Before I saw his piedipenetrare water and then slowly disappear I saw the legs, trunk, and head lebraccia. I think I screamed at that moment, a cry that you're not to save him but gave me the strength to endure the death. I think, I tried to delete perchèdavvero all the synapses that would allow me diriportare the mind and eyes so painful those images.
bleeding. Somewhere I was bleeding and Neres account by accident. I was dirty with vomit and blood everywhere and I felt I was losing cheanche forces. I decided to cling to something and aspettarela death. I was not Christian and therefore I needed to pray. But at that momentomi seemed more dignified to do it. Funny how the face of death, man is left alone to a licensing their dignity. Do not remember him often. Madovremmo.
Suddenly something, maybe a beam, micolpì.
fainted and when I woke up I saw above me uncielo blue and clear.
I had no choice: either I was in heaven or, piùprobabilmente I landed in the Azores. Not by boat, but in qualchemodo.
The Azores are an archipelago of nine isoleimmerse between Portugal and North America, the Atlantic Ocean. Alcuniritengono that they are the remains of the legendary Atlantis. Wild, perilous, from the black cliffs and crystal-clear lakes. Actually I was not on nessunadelle nine most popular islands, where I could hope to find help for my situation ecomprensione, as well as a hot meal and sleep.
I was not in the Azores. I do not know how, but I was finitosu one of the Savage Islands, a group of three uninhabited islands, including Madeira and the Canary Islands. How did the boat to finish completely Off-Route is a mystery to me and the rest did not even more Tuod asostenermi in my reasoning. I got up. My head was spinning a bit '. Miguardai around and recognized in some woods next to me a couple of letters delnome of the boat, a 'Y' and an 'S'. A little farther on was the boat completamenteaperta against a giant rock. Heedless of my wounds courses versoil wreck and started to rummage through the wood wet and smelly. I opened when I saw the ilcuore Boxes of food untouched. I tried again and found lacassetta the emergency room. I grabbed her and walked on the beach, rock assign to sit high enough.
began to treat the numerous cuts that riuscivoa see, some of which had been closed for blood. I tried to open them UNPO 'right to disinfect well. I tried to do my best, that before this adventure tenutoconto the best reaction to the blood that had been avevoavuto of fainting. It 'obvious that conditions in estremel'uomo react with unexpected force.
After a while, 'I realized that my ostinazionenel clean wounds conceal the desire to treat others, piùprofonde. The gaze lingered for a moment on the horizon and seemed far quasidi hear the laughter a bit 'mocking of Tuod. - I want to be tuoposto now ugly bitch of a skipper. Wherever you are - I was surprised apensare.
The days passed one the same. Nonc'era nor much to be done either by turning on the island. Illegname had dried in the sun and had built a small shelter. I dragged alcoperto stores and all the material I had found nellabarca intact, including a small transistor radio that Tuod rarely used. I was not nor could I consider myself unelettrotecnico an amateur electronics. Yet iltroppo leisure and the desire to return to the civilized world adedicarmi forced me to study that thing, that tomorrow would potutorappresentare the only way to communicate with the rest of the world, thousands of waves far from where I sat.
It was almost by accident one morning when I opened the unascatolone Tuod, thinking it contained other provisions. I was tired dimangiare cans of tuna and peas and I hope to be able trovarequalche food a bit 'different. But in that box was just a bunch of stationery dimateriale: blocks, books, pens, crayons, and smallest in unascatola, some photographs. It struck me in particular, the photo of unuomo, tall, very thin, his hair and his face pitted blacks, who surely dovevaessere Tuod's father. Next to him a little woman esmilza small, almost insignificant, if not for very sweet eyes cheriuscivano to hug and make you feel inside you.
How long since I saw a look comequello? How long have not felt heat like that? I grabbed a pen EFU almost natural to start writing, as if that gesture I potessifinalmente put an end to an enforced silence. And the fervor with which I wrote quelleparole made me realize that the silence that screamed in me was not alone quellodella a desert island, where I found myself every day faresberleffi front of a mirror and shouting insults to my face barbonadi castaway. No. It was another silence, begging and even if the end nonaveva sense nor hope of reaching the recipient, immediately broke alcalore and sound of the first words of my message in a bottle. Leripetetti to myself while I was writing, as if to evoke his presence, lìaffianco me.
"Dear Dad ..."
Paginaintenzionalmente left blank.
PrimaLettera
had passed many days, maybe weeks.
Gabriel had now lost the sense of tempo.Seguiva instinct to eat, drink and sleep. And the rest of the time lopassava with a knife to cut firewood. Sculpting small objects, according to the whim of the moment.
She never thought of being able to darevita to something with his hands and made to feel under the skin of the carved COSEC gave him a sense in some way.
One evening he was sitting outside his capanna.Aveva a fire, but he could not feel the heat. Despite very glifosse closely and had put up blankets, felt chills of dentro.Si felt excited, he felt within himself that he could not aconvogliare energy to his usual carving and sculpting. He had worn wooden diversipezzi trying to give shape to the feeling he felt inside.
suddenly stood up, took a sheet and unapenna and began to write.
Nonintesterò this letter, but I know that you recognize the words that stodedicando you.
You also know that if I were not here on an uncharted island in the Atlantic, with rarepossibilità of survival, do not I would be writing. Or maybe you just stareimandando SMS. But this place is far from the technological world as Ilsole last planet in the solar system.
Maybe it's a good thing! Among us there was never need parole.Noi know how we feel for each other. We are sure dell'altracome the one we are sure that every day the sun rises. We are the reference each perl'altra, the fixed point that does not run and does not pass. Wherever we go, with chiunqueci accompany, if we turn, we know the mirror and there we are, as prey to hunters and we do not escape and prey caccatori insieme.Del our love. It 's also true that sometimes, when we hear that things cisfuggono, becomes important for anyone to stop them: it is only for this, Amoremio, I'm writing you today. It 's just for this, to stop my love erendertelo always visible, which is now fixed on this paper what I feel covered, so that you can always have it under your eyes, even when the time you avràcancellato those memories that you seem to be indelible. Yeah. Why does the weather, wrapped them tease, even to people who you are or have stateimportanti and takes away one pixel after another in the photographs of your ricordied one day, suddenly discover that what was important, it is rimastosolo a feeling.
So ildolore that I gave you has left a deep mark in your heart. The leggoogni time you cross, even though your modesty prevents you from dirinfacciarmelo, because basically you're like me and you know that I had no choice, chel'alternativa was not feeling more human. I wonder sometimes if you maiperdonarmi. I know that you will not. Some things can not be forgiven, on the farm. But I just know that you would like to do, my love.
By my choice I gave up a comfortable life. I gave up on love. Masai I have not given up being a father and is the only thing I wanted farebene. While writing, I choose to do so until the very end without fear of revealing my feelings as a man and tell him. Do not ask me what I do. Potraiusarli in my defense, or you can ignore them, throwing them in the toilet with all larabbia you will be sure to have me lost. But trust me, better questacertezza that the uncertainty of not having understood or not giving me what chetu could.
Thou haida everything. All that with your hands as a child you could offer me.
The gioiadi come see you, baby, helpless, "my" child - or should I say lacreatura to which I have also contributed - which is no small thing for a man, knowing that you gave life to something, I mean something good - tiriconcilia for all the sins you have committed a lifetime.
Prendertiper hand and you walk, your smiles of joy and pain in tuoipianti.
Raccoglierele confessions of your child and pull back when you're not diventataadolescente and this father wanted more ... already, maybe this, my love, the most difficult summer, ours was a very strong relationship and-tear it out of charity, in a healthy and natural as befits a report Sanatra father and daughter - was the greatest pain. I saw you retreat of forehead to me, I saw you chjuderti to curl and turn away. And I had to sit still, let go, do not even touch you because I saw that you davofastidio, where instead there until a few years ago it was you were looking incontinuazione my kisses and my hugs. It 'been a hard gap, sure this had words of explanation, which I always hoped that with time siritraesse to rejoin once you were grown up and not mivedessi more as a man, but again as a father. An old father, who habisogno your affection and your physical proximity also, because sometimes leparole not enough, even those not known.
I have nothing to leave, but the memory of a man tried to qualcunoche was trying to live and find meaning in itself. My hope Eche you also have good memories, as well as those of an angry man ESOL. Remember, when you find yourself in front of a man wounded and alone, not to disprezzarlo.Soprattutto, my love, not hurt it more, do not leave solchidi pain in his heart that is unlikely to redial.
If you can, restore what was at their best, recover my smiles, mieischerzi a teenager, I used those to your friends while you tiincazzavi and looked at me wrong. Retrieve my hugs and my kisses, imomenti spent together in silence, eyes crossed and risateimprovvise, my shoulder which sometimes lean silent, tired etriste. Moments that as I grew increasingly appreciative of perchèerano increasingly rare. Small diamonds shining moments between all of gold. I wanted to rip the pain from the heart because you could not prove più.Avrei wanted to challenge those who suffer because you were stopped. Eppurecome father could not do: knowing how much pain there is in life, was well chetu get to know and tame it, but above all to win.
Sonoarrivato the end, my love.
finestrana What about your father. Lived alone, a loneliness that breaks the heart. Solotra people I loved, which made my pain even more penetrating edinaccettabile. For this I left at least became justifiable Ilmio feel alien to the world around them. If I stayed, I was afraid I might end chealla also hate you and your brother and this should not happen.
Have you Curatolo. Take care of my recollection.
Cercaminel your heart, when you need me the next and know that I'll lì.Sarò in the eyes of those who will love you. I'll be in the words of one who loves you and you dirac you will know that is not lying to you if you try provatoper me. I will be in hugs and caresses of those who loves you. I'll Inquest poor words, if you ever reach.
nonti And if you come, I know you know the same, in your heart, how I love you.
Dad
SecondaLettera
Gabriel was sitting in the hut and the photographs of stavasfogliando Tuod.
thought back to his father. He tried to remember the suaimmagine, but this seemed blurred in memory, which gave him a feeling nasceredentro rage against himself for having forgotten. Undo worth the apology that his reason's built: you were a child, epass long time, you did not have many pictures to take you back. Sirimproverava have forgotten moments of childhood together, have tenutoforte only emptiness inside himself, that he had only dragged diabbandono that way. And suddenly he saw himself in his son. So he began to write ...
"You're a man," you say, "Be strong, do not cry." Your pain will be intense. Sentiraiimpotente and you will not cry just because you have so much anger in my body, I'm glad to not be there in front of you to take all the punches that Mimer and you'd give me.
feel a great vuotoche you will be impossible to fill. I do not know where I'll tell you in those momenti.Non can lie by telling you that I will be next to you or that you think meguardando the sky. I am not a Christian but does not exclude anything. Not even that magariDio there and I will be in hell, as if it will be worth all lasofferenza accusation that those who tried to love you because of me.
maddening ilfatto not have a grave to cry on, the fact of not having vistofreddo and composed in a coffin, as in the movies. He could not think mortosenza seen me in as your age in which it is worse than S. Tommasoe not believe anything unless it is pressed against the nose.
hovissuto What mockery to me that the experience of a father who was not there, no one had ladecenza to tell me he was dead. I am convinced that this is what I rendeancora harder to see me here thinking of you, over there, you do not know cosas now: if free spirit, if left to the worms or meat damned soul. Soesattamente every thought that crosses your mind. Chenasce guess every instinct in you to me, the initial bewilderment and uncertainty for the sudden emptiness in my fate, anger which turns into the most sordid quandol'assenza continues and will invade the soul. The indifference that follows, daldolore defense. Remorse for the things you've done and regret for what nonhai unable or unwilling to do. Envy and hatred when you see a father and figlionelle situations that remind you of us.
DIRECTION dizziness grew up with that, hoping not to try to do your time with your child, such as kidnapping was a curse passed down from father to son since the dolorecontinui. As if the pain was the only way to be remembered and recalled.
And there is nothing that iopossa say, still alive, although far away, to relieve pain and caress iltuo heart. It should be 'your way, knowing that those feelings will count forever, you will be afraid of losing everything you love, then percostringerti not to love more, or deny yourself the love you feel perqualcuno, like a little luck not to lose it.
ancheio there are waterfalls. I think I see a movie in which you take my role daprotagonista and I became helpless spectator of your hard silence.
So I can not dirtinulla. I know my mistakes, but instead would never change the tuocammino, or sharing would help you to bear it. You will only, as I was losono.
One thing I leave you: my love. All the love I can, the strong and eternal sentirainell'aria that I breathe, the only love that now I am not afraid to cry, because I have nothing left to lose. A love grows over time, become an accomplice to be protective and that he could evolve sarebbediventato esteem, respect and finally pity, in my old age.
One thing I tell you: do not be afraid to love. Do not be afraid to tell your love that count allepersone and really when you know it really matter, because when you are feeling as well as out of breath.
Papá
Epilogue
did not know how much time had passed dalgiorno of the wreck. At first he kept scoring notches assign to the account tree. Then he saw no more sense: he had never imported iltempo. So she quit.
There was not much to do on the island, sometimes cosìa delighted to carve pieces of wood found on the beach, the sea Sometimes you sit and watch the skyline.
also had learned to eat adarrangiarsi: he still had a small supply of tins of meat, tuna elegumi and sometimes competed with himself to catch fish on the grill dacuocere.
did not care to live osopravvivere. Somehow he had been offered an exceptional gift: quellodi have plenty of time to think and analyze his life and emotions recuperandoricordi, gnawed all the feelings that were ephemeral ericonoscendo people that were really important to him, between LeMill that were bustling around.
One morning the sun was high in the sky. He was standing on the beach, Conin a pencil and paper, where he had begun deisuoi children to draw the face as he remembered it within himself. He had started a few giornoprima when he panicked because of not ricordarebene some details of their eyes and the fear of not being able avisualizzare in mind their faces had done the rest.
Occasionally he looked up from cieloe the horizon where the sea lapped and this was one of those moments that Lavida. It was a rather large boat, one of those tours. After a po'iniziò also to perceive a sound that was to be a music on board. It alzòper look better. He tried to guess the distance, but had never been bravonelle practical things and the distance between his feet and the first cheavrebbe arm could grab could be ten miles or one hundred. Avevadavvero not the sense of that measure. He felt excited at the thought that misfortune would have quellasua end, but at the same time he began to distinguerenel his mind a little 'fear. Symptoms were unmistakable, especially enabled once for so long had come to know every centimeter of self, physical but spiritual, every thrill, every need, every variazionedi mood. It was natural, being alone, having learned to distinguish ognibattito of his heart. Only that the knowledge gained so far was nongli distinguish whether it was fear of fear itself or the fact of averepaura. He hopped from one foot to another, always still the same place, trying to look better horizon.
Suddenly he decided to try and ran nellacapanna SOS rockets. He was sure to have seen them. Arovistare started quickly through the boxes and finally found one. He looked around edentro other cases, but there seemed to be just a rocket. Had to be careful, because he could not waste it. Read with care instructions and took inspiaggia to shoot, hoping that would work and enabling him to esserevisto.
something happened on the way between the beach and lacapanna. Gabriel had come out with the rocket in hand and eraposizionato on the shore. He noticed that the boat was closer. Sembravaincredibilmente close, much more than before and within himself he was sure that chebastasse turn on race, because everything ended and he could return to civil nelmondo. Perhaps the thought was to instill in him memories dellapartenza, loneliness he had left. The images of his ultimigiorni common in the world had fallen off his boat from him just now and avevasalpato were riappiccicando to memory, but felt nonvolerle. Not anymore.
If there was one thing at that time eracresciuta in him, that was the desire to treat themselves to only what eraimportante. Important for him had been only his children and he knew within himself that would be bad for its absence, of course, would statimalissimo. Yet after a while 'would begin to experience its absence comequalcosa natural, with less pain, less suffering. Back direcostringerli wanted to divide again. Do not allow them to return meant diritrovare the unity of heart, living in one place, having one cameradove sleep, to live in one house, one family to love.
thought no more about. He raised his arm and fired a rocket into the sea, farther chepoté. Then came a moment in the hut. Avevascritto grabbed the three letters, put them in three different bottles, locks with a cork ecorse back to shore to throw, too far from him, almost as sevolesse to distance themselves from everything that had and would not have been Nevermore.
So he sat on the shore and watched the horizon Labarca slowly disappear.
The reality is that Gabriel was never found, so now I do not know if this man is still alive or not. I piacepensare that he is somewhere in the Atlantic and reached a suoequilibrio and has achieved in his solitude and serenity felicitàche deserved.
To him I dedicate this story, with the presumption Cheun days and he can tell someone who wants to know where percorreggerla is wrong.
