Question: “Can everyday life be fantastic?”. I’ll try to answer by resurrecting the love letters writing style. A letter to what’s extraordinary.

This is the promise I did to myself few years ago. “My life will be extraordinary”, I said, nothing less. I was an utopian, a dreamer, an idealist. We tried to convince me it was impossible. I never got it. That’s fine. Everything is fine. I keep singing this melody in my head. “Everything is fine”. Maybe if I sing it loud enough, maybe then, everything will really be fine even if I’ll always be eager to vibrate, willing to experiment, begging to get answers, starving to understand, dying to be understood.

No questioning, no passion, no pain. No surprise. Flat. Could life be flat? Without those feelings, all those overwhelming feelings I can neither refrain nor escape. Sometimes tender and soft, sometimes hard and painful. But every time surprising. There are good and there are bad surprises… We have to welcome them anyway. A way to grow or a way to perceive happiness. A way to feel, a way to dream and to feed the dreams. So, if you give me a lot, I will dream a lot. And the wake up always feels like a freezing shower in the winter. But how can’t ice melt in the fire? My idealizations burn.

And when this sensation that hits the stomach turns into a shared passion and reach the heart, then each single memory is one more pain, one more fear. It is so frightening, but this is the price. The price of extraordinary. New colors, new flavors, new sounds, new smells are worth it. I will even lose my perceptions and forget how afraid I was. And I’ll get lost in the whirl of my human condition. With imprisoned sensations under my flesh. Confined words in my head. Silent discovery.

My head fell down many times. My heart tore apart. My organs imploded. The great scenario I imagined got blown like a cards castle. And today, I might have no tears anymore for you. I swallowed them all, one by one. I know the taste of disillusion, I know the taste of betraying, the taste of threat and the taste of lies. I know the taste of cowardice. Sour. But did I ever know the subtle taste of love? It would be perfect, infinite, indescribable… One card flies and the whole tower crashes down. I kept smiling, I keep staring straight as I’ve always kept the pride very visible. Now I stand up, I breathe and talk with self control. With the illusion that what is not expressed is not felt. Let’s talk…talk…talk… That’s the key! Yes, let’s talk! And how do we do this? Is it really possible to talk for real? Who can really understand? Who can really get the whole message one is trying to transmit? Who and how? Do we at least speak the same language or are they as many languages as there are individuals on earth…? Could half of the words I want to say be told so that you will understand them? I know you would try.

And here is the wave. Once up, once down. Endless tides. I am alive. Ready to give, ready to receive but always blown away. I get hurt. I get healed. I am alive but injured. Looking for my relief on the road. Flowing away with the secret hope that you will be here somewhere. You would take my face between your hands, caress my eyes and in a murmur you would ask me to stay with you, my extraordinary. “Don’t leave me…”. And so would I. Then, maybe then, I will reach peace. Maybe then… The story will be wonderful, the story will be passionate. And I will suffer once more for you. I will find more tears deep inside to pump up the tide and let you navigate to me. And the world will never be large enough to prevent me from getting to you.

Like cats, we’ll reach home.