As this story is being told, there is nothing I miss more than those early days with Samuele. They were so beautiful and they have carried us through many of the tough times that came up later in our relationship. Have you noticed - quite unfortunately - how life has a way of changing us on the inside as well as the outside? Whether we like it or not, aging affects our personalities and our perspectives as well as our physical bodies. So if two people change individually of each other, it follows that the connection they share will morph as well. But hey, we willingly promise ‘for better or for worse’. And when the going gets tough, we might need to grit our teeth and reminisce about the beginning when we were witnesses to a special kind of magic that is hard to replicate or even describe.
But I digress. The last thing I need is to set a morose tone for the next installment of my story. For that was definitely not the vein in which my romance with Samuele progressed…
Was it All in My Head?
Back in Rome, the daily routine kicked me back into gear so thoroughly that I might have easily written off the weekend in Mantova as a charming dream and nothing more. However, it seemed that my heart had other ideas. While I watched my little charge at tennis or swimming lessons or zooming around in his motorized kid-car, I thought often of the hours I’d spent in Samuele’s company. It wasn’t hard to do when it had only been thirty or so hours spent with him and his friends. Where there wasn’t much to dwell on, my heart found pleasure in the dreaming. And. since there was less to analyze, the dreaming only enhanced what may have been trivial at best. By that time it was late June. School was finishing up for Branden. He was to attend a day camp for a few weeks after school ended and so my days would continue as before. Bracciano Lake became a go-to destination for my free time. There I’d watch the swans or swim alone in the warming water or await summer storms from park benches bathed in western sunlight. The only person I might have told about Samuele was my mother, but for the most part, those moments were secretly all mine to spend in contemplation. Why did I feel so strongly about this guy? I’d hardly spent any time with him. And the curiosity about whether I’d even see him again started as a spark that grew into a small flame. My journal entries were filled with my musings and when I read them, I have to laugh. I was so naive to the potential of new relationships and opportunities, to how life could twist and turn and surprise.
My lovely friends from La Storta continued to support and love on me…yes, even as they got to know me better! We visited castle museums, ice cream shops, and spent countless hours at the lake. A set of American sisters joined the church and quickly became interesting friends for all of us…and a pleasant distraction from my less-than-practical thoughts consumed with a certain curly-haired fella. Side note: just to help you understand the hype, please know I was totally attracted to curly-haired boys my entire life. This was pretty exciting to have met one as a quasi-adult and get the stomach flips for him. We had emailed back and forth a few times; after all, I had pictures to send and of course he was the best recipient out of the Mantovanians. Thanks to the not-so-secret machinations of our lovely friends. Samuele seemed very busy with work and his difficult boss so we didn’t have much contact with each other for a couple of weeks.
Kate and Chris had decided to go on a vacation somewhere at the beach in the end of June. At first they said I was to go with them, but a few days before the trip, they told me I could have a week off instead. Friends, you can believe I was not upset about this! Usually host families bring their au-pair on vacations, but I figured it was good for them to spend quality time with their son. Rea and Lisa must have gotten wind of my sudden change in fortune because they reached out and invited me up to Mantova again for the weekend. Without hesitation, I was in. Would this be another weekend when I might spend time around Samuele? I willed it from the romantic depths of the universe and also prayed hard!
On Friday night I traveled up to Mantova. Once I arrived, the girls informed me that I was to attend a meeting with some church people and stay at Rea’s aunt’s and uncle’s house. At some point during the evening, I texted Samuele a message that was to the point.
“I am in Mantova again this weekend. Would you like to meet to say hi?” I just knew he would want to know. Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long.
“Where are you staying? I’m here tonight but I leave tomorrow to spend the weekend with my mother for her birthday.” His reply excited and saddened me at the same time. I would see him but it would be a short visit. I couldn’t begrudge his mother though, because as much as I wanted to see Samuele, I could appreciate that he would take a weekend to visit her.
After the church meeting, Samuele came to the house where I was staying. He texted around eleven p.m. saying that he was outside. I joined him, my butterfly friends beating their song inside my chest. The secret dreams I had spent hours wishing for were coming true! We decided to walk the neighborhood until the hour got late enough to drive us inside the house where we sat and talked softly. From what I remember, it ended up being close to 2 a.m. when our visit was cut short by Samuele’s roommate calling to say he needed a ride to the emergency department for stomach pain. Even though it was so late, I can remember the parting felt wrong. There was a pull between us that couldn’t be denied.
Rea and Lisa took me shopping and to another concert in a nearby town that Saturday. We had a sweet time– my Italian improved and so did their English. The hours flew by. Sunday we attended church and then planned a big dinner for friends at Lisa’s house. Her parents were out of town (I know what you’re thinking but no, it did NOT turn into a keg party) and she liked to invite the youth group over to her tiny apartment when she could fit more people at the kitchen table. We shopped and cooked and primped. I remember sitting with my back to the patio door at the end of a table crammed with beaming faces of people who genuinely loved to be around each other. There was a gentle breeze wafting into the room and at one point I heard Samuele’s roommate mention his name. He must have been explaining why he wasn’t present and my heart leaped. In that moment I wanted nothing more than to be able to speak fluent Italian. I contented myself that my time making sweet friends was just as valuable as hours-long conversations with my secret crush.
Samuele’s roommate took a phone call during the meal. I couldn’t tell exactly what was said, but it seemed like he was explaining where he was to the caller. My stomach tightened and I prayed deep inside my jumping heart that it was Samuele looking for the group upon arriving back in town. After dinner started winding down, there was a stir and someone buzzed the doorbell. I was completely shut in at the end of the table opposite the door of the kitchen. All I could do was wait impatiently for what was surely my prayer being granted. Soon enough, there he was, filling the doorway with a shy smile as his eyes immediately caught mine across the room. I could feel a heat in my cheeks and my heart kept up its uneven rhythm. Once the room cleared out, I joined Samuele in the living room. It had been decided that the group was heading en masse to another party– a girl from the church was having a birthday party.
“Vieni con me in macchina mia?” Samuele asked by way of a greeting. This, I understood. “Come in my car with me?” He hadn’t asked anyone else. This felt real. It felt like he was confessing for my ears alone, something precious.
When we got out to the car, I was surprised to see a giant sunflower on the passenger seat. I looked at Samuele, calculating quickly. I would be just as direct.
“Is it for me"?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
I named the flower ‘Sunny’ and held him on my lap until we arrived at the party. We listened to music and that was enough to fill the honest space between us. At the party, we sang in 5 different languages to the birthday girl and ate dessert. At some point, Samuele leaned over from his side of the group and mouthed, “shall we go?” We said our goodbyes and headed to a nearby park. I can remember the shyness upon being alone together. The natural give and take. The sweet intensity of our interaction. We played catch by lamplight in the park. I remember hitting him in the nose with my baseball glove and he joked that I didn’t like his big nose. But that couldn’t have been farther from the truth; I honestly liked everything about him. We talked until 3 a.m. I told him about my poems and he told me about his difficult job. We talked about our families and childhoods, all the while flirting and joking like we had known each other for ages. When he parked outside Lisa’s house, he looked over at me.
“Rachel, I like you a lot and I think we should pray about what’s happening.” I didn’t need clarification. If hearts could fly from emotion alone, mine would have been drifting above us, doing cartwheels under the stars.
After he walked me upstairs, I gave him a poem and we hugged for the first time. We fit perfectly. I will never forget how secure I felt with my chin tucked into the crook of his neck and his arms around me. This time, the goodbye didn’t cause any twinges of desperation. I knew we would see each other again. After all, our secrets had come to light.
Friends, I know it has been years since my last post. At some point I’ll share the why in my other blog on this site. But, if you’re reading this, thank you. I do want to finish our story. These days, it is still carrying me through our hard times. I hope this inspires you to think back to the sweet moments in your own relationship– maybe when your secret came to light?
x.o. Rachel