A Letter...

Maybe I give you more pain. Maybe it was a mistake to take your phone number in class. And to meet you in the garden and to kiss you in Villa Borghese. Maybe it was a mistake to start a story with you. Maybe it was a mistake to believe that you loved me. And maybe it was a mistake to allow myself to love you – and to tell you that I loved you.

I don’t know Valeria. Maybe.

But I know that I wanted nothing else in those moments, than what happened. I wanted to take your number more than anything. I wanted to meet you in the garden and to kiss you in Villa Borghese more than anything else. I wanted to start a story with you. I wanted to believe that you loved me and – more than anything else in all the world – I wanted to love you. And to tell you that I loved you.

Today is October 5th. Maybe in my life I will never know love again. Maybe you never loved me and maybe you never will. But now I know what love looks like because you showed me. You showed me every time you told me your dreams. You showed me every time you talked about North Carolina and Asheville and Smoofie. I felt it every time you put your head on my shoulder.

You wrote in my diary “don’t forget me never”. It would be impossible to forget you, Valeria. And it would be impossible to forget us. It would be impossible to forget the first time I saw you at school. It would be impossible to forget how nervous I always got before class. It would be impossible to forget the time you said to me:

“I don’t understand all the English words. But I understand this (you pointed to your eyes), and I understand how I feel.”

“I’m scared that you go back to North Carolina…but I want to know you. If you want.”


It would be impossible to forget all the times you said:

“Jonathan, don’t go back to North Carolina. It’s not fair that everyone gets you for more years, but I get you only a few months.”

“We have more things to discover together. We have to walk on the street in the center during winter – at Christmas. With big jackets and scarves. We have to go to Venezia together and visit Parigi. You have to see me play volley and go with me to my thesis.”


It would be impossible to forget our first kiss. It would be impossible to forget the time we looked at furniture in the store window. I thought about my future with you. And I was happy.

And if we stop now, you will stay with me forever. When I hear “Goodbye My Lover”, I will think of you and only you. Every time I take a coffee in the window, I will think of only you. Every place I go, you will be there. Asheville, Paris, London, San Francisco. You will be there, because you are in my heart.

I don’t know what your future is. But I know that it will be full of happiness and love because you will make it so. And if I am not in your future – you remember me. Remember the boy from North Carolina who loved to listen to your dreams. Remember the boy who loved your English, and didn’t want to change it. Remember the boy from North Carolina who wanted only to love you.

I will remember all of it, Valeria. But I don’t want it to stop. I want to have more and more things to remember. I want to make more memories with you. I want to have more than a few months with you – I want to have years with you.

And this isn’t just about you or me. This is about a story much bigger than one person or two people. This is about life and a journey and a story. I have more things to do in my life and you have more things to do in your life. You have dreams and I have dreams and some of them are equal.

But I want to do those things and dream those dreams with you.

Together.