Black Tie Party Invitations

ago

reflects on a Saturday dedicated to the reunion with old friends.

happens three or four times a year that a friend makes a nice round of phone calls, of course, well in advance, asking everyone to keep free for this date, "so we meet with the boys." With many of them, those are now the only opportunity to see.

And I must say that is good at it, because then you find yourself in the same place every time, what you do not even need to make a date that, after all, where else?

And there they were all of them, people I know for a lifetime.

What I have seen college freshman, all ideals and enthusiasm, and one with the book "Institutions of Private Law" on that damn sudarmi pre-appeal, and torrid back in June 1996. Still other, even when the book changed, but I was always there, steady and tenacious, with colored pens to highlight and prepare for an exam after another.

Those who were present at my graduation in the spring of 2001, unexpectedly fresh, those who have cried with me for the loss of who I loved so much, those who, not later than five years ago, I went in new study, with a plan or even with their good luck.

Those who knew my boyfriends, or just live in my stories, the ones who have rejoiced at my successes, I have seen carefree, and then happy, happy, happy, tired, sad, sometimes desperate, disconsolate and then absent, preoccupied, and then alone, radiant, serene, and restless, stubborn, love, hurt. Strong and fragile.

With many I have shared many holidays around Europe or in a rented apartment by the sea, too small for all the friends of friends who stopped to sleep. With them, I organized a New Year holidays, between the sweet mascarpone and the walls too wet of a house is only open for the occasion.

With some I made some tests, I went through Italy with others in the car, in certain foggy nights when you're awake or you'll never be over, I wandered for festivals, or just aimlessly. I chatted with others about me, my fears, my dreams. Values, shoes, the mysteries of the universe.

With them I have seen concerts, sunrises and sunsets, love and betrayal.

I've been to their dinners, their marriages. I was at the baptism of their children.

I've been in new homes, I have reached the stage in Milan, Rimini, on the new job in Florence, by her boyfriend in London, Erasmus in Amsterdam. In Sicily, in Friuli, in Rome, Bologna or even in the first room. We've known for a lifetime, I know who they are and also they should know by now, who I am.

Yet.

But, for some time now, will age, will be the choices that will have changed me, life will be, but we really have to think about, because I find myself at a table with these people.

I am strange to see these men, who were once vibrant and a little boys' Cazzaro, speak only of tire temperature, sports scores and mowing the front lawn.

And the girls, those with whom I shared shopping from the high street in Paris, the confidences and cafes now are making it, knee-length skirt and string of pearls, to speak of the children of asylum, Scavolini kitchens and recipe for the cheesecakes.

I can not believe this scene from Desperate Housewives is now their life.

They, in turn, ask me about my smile with a skeptical and a little amused.

listen to my work, my meetings, interests, ideas and entertainment with an air of curiosity, a bit 'as if they were listening to the plot of a movie, or as you do when you watch the episode of a TV series: is fun, but it is not real life.

are surprised of my freedom to make and set off for the weekend without programs, the books I read, my beliefs about love and politics, people who attend or not attend, the fact that I buy the decorations Christmas tree fuchsia and silver, like the walls of the house.

Because I'm the odd one out of the box, the one over the top, one who knows the stock exchanges signed but knows nothing of sleepless nights for the first tooth, the one, marriage, knows only the theory by examination of family law at the university. Those living on clouds, that can afford to think only of herself, who could not do the grocery shopping for a family.
And that does not take anything seriously.

It 'sad to see that you do not remind me of who I am.
Yet, I have boxes full of photographs with them.