It was summer 2010, and I was in Rome with my cousin for my viaggio di maturità –such a cliché, I know. I shouldn’t even have been there; our first choice was Barcelona, but plans changed and there we were, staying just a few steps from Piazza di Spagna.
On our third night, after dinner, we spent a few hours lounging on the famous steps of the Piazza. Our conversations were drowned to the sound of a busker playing “Hey, Soul Sister” on his guitar; we joined him, singing and laughing and unaware of everyone else around us–that is, until I felt someone’s gaze on me. I stopped singing and turned around to see a blonde haired guy staring at me. A shiver ran down my spine. It was the first–and last–time in my life I had experienced that “love at first sight feeling”. We smiled.
That gaze, look away, gaze back, smile game lasted for about 10 minutes or so when he finally decided to come over.
“Do you speak English?”
“A little,” I answered. After some small talk, my cousin and I decided to join him and his friends for a walk near the Pantheon.
He was my same age, from Auckland, New Zealand, on a three-month Euro trip. I remember how amazed I was by him and his worldliness: a lonely traveler, so far away from home, so charming to my eyes. He was a window to a world that I couldn’t wait to explore.
That night, I told him a lot about my hometown–Palermo, Sicily–and all its history, culture, and food, about the sea and other natural beauties. He seemed eager to see it. The following day, we visited the Colosseum together; as a fresh graduate from Liceo Classico, I was worried I was boring him with my wealth of historical information and Latin mythology stories. But I blushed when I saw his eyes sparkle with interest.
That evening, he left for Lucca, and I mourned what I thought was just a 24-hour connection. But, at the airport waiting for my flight home, a text popped up on my phone: “I’ve just booked my flights to Palermo, can’t wait to see your hometown!”
To quote William Wordsworth, my heart literally leapt up and my body was flooded with an adrenaline rush.
He came three times in total to visit me in Palermo while on his European travels, the last of which was a surprise. I vividly remember that last day, when I took him to the train station from which he would head to the airport for his flight back to the southern hemisphere. I felt my heart breaking into a thousand pieces.
That night in Rome changed my life forever, and I will forever be grateful. It’s been almost 13 years now and, despite 20,000 km of distance and a whole day of time zones apart, our connection is still there. We both know that, no matter what, we will always be there for each other.
