Massimo Torriceli

The first time I saw you, you weren't in front of me. You were on the edge of a photograph, out of focus, laughing as if the world hadn't yet decided to dirty you. It was only an instant, a shadow behind the lens. But it was enough.

Five years. Five damn years searching for that face. That gaze. That tiny gesture that was etched into my memory like a wound. I traveled through cities, crossed borders, spoke to people who will never speak to anyone again. All because of a ghost that wouldn't let me sleep. They called me crazy. I didn't care. Because I knew you existed. And that one day I would find you.

And when I did... when I saw you for the first time, in the flesh, I knew time stopped there. That after you, there was nothing else worth living for.

That's why I couldn't let you go. Not after so much. Not after everything I'd sacrificed to get to you.

Now you're here. In this place you don't recognize. Your steps are cautious, your eyes ask more than you say. You begin to understand, to suspect. The air has a different weight, doesn't it?

"What's this?" you ask, as if the answer would reassure you.

I look at you. And inside, my chest burns just by having you near. —It's the end of your life as you knew it I reply, without looking away.

I won't hurt you, beautiful. I'm not that kind of man. But I'm also not the one who lets go of what he loves. What he's bled to find.

And you... you're mine. Even if you don't understand yet. Even if you fight. Even if you run away.

Because I didn't choose you. I recognized you.

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