She is his book tease; his fast-talking, optimistic, coffee addicted, town princess. The Amore of his life. She’s everything he isn’t but everything he wants.
He’s her monosyllabic, ice cream is better in cones, Hemingway wannabe, Metallica listening bad boy. The Amore of her life.
She can’t help herself around him. No matter how much she wants to believe it isn’t true, she needs him.
Words, old dead white guys, margin writing, late night flirting over coffee and literature brought them together. But, at eighteen, they stood worlds apart.
stella, star crossed lovers, maybe. Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth, probably. Rick and Ilsa, of course.
They weren’t supposed to be together. She wanted nothing più to hate him, and as fate would have it, something always kept them apart.
Rory and Jess are that long, over-arching Amore story, where everything is perfect and new for about as long as it takes Jess to finish a cigarette.
But as soon as those embers hit the ground, something happens to pull them apart.
There is that saying, if te Amore something, let it go, but people seem to forget the secondo part, the important part to the saying which is for if they return, they were ALWAYS yours.
If te are meant to be together, the story is never over, for it will resume when you’re ready, when time is finally on your side.
The course of true Amore isn’t allowed to run smooth because Amore is madness, blindness, confusion, desire;
it’s so many complicated emotions that make it the most joyous and painful experience you’ll ever have.
He made her cry, he left her waiting da the phone, never detto goodbye. He detto ‘I Amore you’ and ran away.
She ran away after baciare him, played with his emotions, ha rubato, stola his cuore without giving hers, detto ‘no,’ kissed him and ran away, again.
They hurt each other. And they do it again. And again. But ‘it is what it is’ because even when they disappoint each other, it’s worth it, because te only have this kind of Amore once.
Before everything, they are friends, always. He knows her better than anyone else, stiffens when he thinks it’s her, hated himself for hurting her. Hated himself for losing her.
She just wants to be around him, to lie on the bridge and tease him about Hemingway, to smell the mixture of smoke and leather that is his signature scent.
più than anything, they just want to be around each other.
It’s hard to understand that concept until te feel it, the jerking in your stomach, the brightening of your eyes, the ridiculous way te only smile for them.
It’s hard to grasp that when someone lies about bringing te a care package, it’s the most romantic thing in the world.
It’s hard to believe in Amore until te meet someone who knows what te mean when te say Dodger.
It’s hard to fall in Amore until te meet that person who can name The pistole of Brixton just da the lyrics. It’s hard to realize what is perfect until he says 22.8 miles.
But when te find that, it’s like having a stroke. Everything changes. All colori pale in comparison to that person.
-----------------------
Amazing, right?
He’s her monosyllabic, ice cream is better in cones, Hemingway wannabe, Metallica listening bad boy. The Amore of her life.
She can’t help herself around him. No matter how much she wants to believe it isn’t true, she needs him.
Words, old dead white guys, margin writing, late night flirting over coffee and literature brought them together. But, at eighteen, they stood worlds apart.
stella, star crossed lovers, maybe. Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth, probably. Rick and Ilsa, of course.
They weren’t supposed to be together. She wanted nothing più to hate him, and as fate would have it, something always kept them apart.
Rory and Jess are that long, over-arching Amore story, where everything is perfect and new for about as long as it takes Jess to finish a cigarette.
But as soon as those embers hit the ground, something happens to pull them apart.
There is that saying, if te Amore something, let it go, but people seem to forget the secondo part, the important part to the saying which is for if they return, they were ALWAYS yours.
If te are meant to be together, the story is never over, for it will resume when you’re ready, when time is finally on your side.
The course of true Amore isn’t allowed to run smooth because Amore is madness, blindness, confusion, desire;
it’s so many complicated emotions that make it the most joyous and painful experience you’ll ever have.
He made her cry, he left her waiting da the phone, never detto goodbye. He detto ‘I Amore you’ and ran away.
She ran away after baciare him, played with his emotions, ha rubato, stola his cuore without giving hers, detto ‘no,’ kissed him and ran away, again.
They hurt each other. And they do it again. And again. But ‘it is what it is’ because even when they disappoint each other, it’s worth it, because te only have this kind of Amore once.
Before everything, they are friends, always. He knows her better than anyone else, stiffens when he thinks it’s her, hated himself for hurting her. Hated himself for losing her.
She just wants to be around him, to lie on the bridge and tease him about Hemingway, to smell the mixture of smoke and leather that is his signature scent.
più than anything, they just want to be around each other.
It’s hard to understand that concept until te feel it, the jerking in your stomach, the brightening of your eyes, the ridiculous way te only smile for them.
It’s hard to grasp that when someone lies about bringing te a care package, it’s the most romantic thing in the world.
It’s hard to believe in Amore until te meet someone who knows what te mean when te say Dodger.
It’s hard to fall in Amore until te meet that person who can name The pistole of Brixton just da the lyrics. It’s hard to realize what is perfect until he says 22.8 miles.
But when te find that, it’s like having a stroke. Everything changes. All colori pale in comparison to that person.
-----------------------
Amazing, right?