my happiness consisted in you, my attachment, your love, my pain, your hate, my blows, your hugs ... little by little everything has been happening and I'm far from being well but farther from being bad, maybe this is the vision of myself that I never wanted to have .. nor Freud, nor Bennedetti can speak more of attachment or love than me and I'm still here without being a writer, I just digress in my world, a bit spooky at times but it can shine when I least expect it , I'm so locked in my gray scale that I don't see the different dimensions that surround me ... we all came to this world to love and be loved and everyone gets it in their own way .. nor Elio to Oliver they love as much as this feeling that chains my heart and the funniest thing is that I don't call him by my name
