Multiplying Report 12

The fourteenth day The morning was splendid and I could already see the Campanian coast; by now we were already in the port. My friend let himself be deluded by my words; he wanted to follow me to my next stop, but I did not allow it. I left him on that train that was carrying him toward his "journey" alone, just as he had set out. Some things, some experiences cannot be shared, they can only be gone through; it is up to you to grasp their essence. That chaotic Neapolitan market saw me frightened yet proud of my existence; I wandered for many hours in search of maternal memories, by now faded by time. A Neapolitan woman satisfied my hunger before I took the coach that carried me toward my native town. I slept for a long time, and when I woke up I had already arrived. I let myself be embraced by those paternal arms that would never embrace me again.

When I returned toward my home I travelled together with a girl of almost my age, who was heading north to join some friends of hers and go on holiday; they would spend their time in Sardinia. I did not tell her my story, my loves; once we arrived home we said goodbye with a see-you-soon that would never come true. Through the windows I glimpsed my friends waiting for me on the station platform, and I was immediately happy. A whirlwind of commitments allowed me not to think too much about that love of mine that had passed, without forgetting how important it was.