You Gotta Love Italian...
When I was a kid, I used to believe in soul mates. That there was that one special person out there for me and no one else would do. My goal in life was to search out that person, never being complete until that glorious moment until our eyes locked. Sparks would fly while a flourish of music rang throughout the hilltops......
Bull shit. All bull shit. I have figured out love doesn't work that way for me. I am not really sure it works that way for anyone. You may think, "well, that is because you haven't met him yet". Nope, I don't believe it anymore. I don't believe there is just one person out there for me. I think there are many different people, different mates out there. It is a matter of meeting them at the right place and the right time.
Tonight, my mind wondered back to my little Italian, Matteo. He may just have been one of those wrong times, wrong places kind of guys. You see, Matteo came to work for a couple months at the research facility I work at. He stayed on site in an old home, a home that my office is located in. My first introduction to him was not the smoothest of sailings. I actually think I completely grossed him out. A bird had crashed into our patio and broke its neck. But it was so beautiful that I thought it may be a useful specimen for students to study at the university in town. So, I scooped up the bird and placed it in the kitchen freezer of the old home not knowing anyone was to be living there to prevent it from decaying before I could get it to the university. The next day, on the way to my office, I walked into find a note on the kitchen table. In very big letters it read: "Remove the dead bird from the freezer". Oops, the Italian had found it. Oops, I guess I can't tell him a dead bird in the freezer is a traditional Canadian welcoming gift. Oops, this guys is going to hate me.
We finally met face to face and I apologized for the bird. We laughed. We got to know together quite well and spent an truly fun evening together looking for the Northern Lights and talking about everything. Well, talking as best we could with the language barrier. We seemed to have a good connection as we chatted bundled up outside, drinking hot chocolate, gazing at the amazing night sky. We talked about our pasts and the future for hours and never did see any aurora. I went home excited to see him again. And then I got sick. I guess a night outside in the winter's cold didn't do much for my immune system. I was off work for the next couple of weeks and by the time I returned, Matteo had gone back to Italy. That was that.
But, thinking back to Matteo, I often wonder if we really did have a connection. Was he one of those people I am compatible with? I swear his eyes twinkled when he talked to me. My heart raced thinking of him after our night of skygazing. Was this a case of wrong place, wrong time or was I caught up in the romantic setting? I guess I will never know.
Matteo and I still email back and forth every once in a while. He still hopes to come and live in Canada one day and we send each other pictures of the Northern Lights. Maybe I will see him again, maybe I won't. What I do know is whenever I see a dead bird, I think of my little Italian fondly.
Bull shit. All bull shit. I have figured out love doesn't work that way for me. I am not really sure it works that way for anyone. You may think, "well, that is because you haven't met him yet". Nope, I don't believe it anymore. I don't believe there is just one person out there for me. I think there are many different people, different mates out there. It is a matter of meeting them at the right place and the right time.
Tonight, my mind wondered back to my little Italian, Matteo. He may just have been one of those wrong times, wrong places kind of guys. You see, Matteo came to work for a couple months at the research facility I work at. He stayed on site in an old home, a home that my office is located in. My first introduction to him was not the smoothest of sailings. I actually think I completely grossed him out. A bird had crashed into our patio and broke its neck. But it was so beautiful that I thought it may be a useful specimen for students to study at the university in town. So, I scooped up the bird and placed it in the kitchen freezer of the old home not knowing anyone was to be living there to prevent it from decaying before I could get it to the university. The next day, on the way to my office, I walked into find a note on the kitchen table. In very big letters it read: "Remove the dead bird from the freezer". Oops, the Italian had found it. Oops, I guess I can't tell him a dead bird in the freezer is a traditional Canadian welcoming gift. Oops, this guys is going to hate me.
We finally met face to face and I apologized for the bird. We laughed. We got to know together quite well and spent an truly fun evening together looking for the Northern Lights and talking about everything. Well, talking as best we could with the language barrier. We seemed to have a good connection as we chatted bundled up outside, drinking hot chocolate, gazing at the amazing night sky. We talked about our pasts and the future for hours and never did see any aurora. I went home excited to see him again. And then I got sick. I guess a night outside in the winter's cold didn't do much for my immune system. I was off work for the next couple of weeks and by the time I returned, Matteo had gone back to Italy. That was that.
But, thinking back to Matteo, I often wonder if we really did have a connection. Was he one of those people I am compatible with? I swear his eyes twinkled when he talked to me. My heart raced thinking of him after our night of skygazing. Was this a case of wrong place, wrong time or was I caught up in the romantic setting? I guess I will never know.
Matteo and I still email back and forth every once in a while. He still hopes to come and live in Canada one day and we send each other pictures of the Northern Lights. Maybe I will see him again, maybe I won't. What I do know is whenever I see a dead bird, I think of my little Italian fondly.
posted by Cascadia at 9:15 PM
3 Comments:
I dunno... Maybe those little golden nuggets are just supposed to be that. Wonderful, beautiful and warming self-contained moments you can always go back to... I have a few of those myself. At least in my cases, the guy and I wouldn't have worked in the long run, but in those moments, at that time, it was exactly what I needed. You know?
Totally, totally!
You have to see the Northern Lights - they are truly amazing. Sometimes, if the conditions are just right, you can get them as far south as Northern California, so you may have to travel a bit north...
I love the idea of collecting memories....my fond memories keep me warm at night. I must admit, I do have a mind like a sieve, so I have lost a few, but the really really good ones are still there!
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