Monday, 25 May 2015

running away, just a little

Remember all that "serious and mature" talking about not running away from Milan and my troubles?
Well, if you kept up with this sort of online diary even only for a week you probably know already I'm full of crap.
I wasn't completely lying; I was serious about it, of course I was, just with some caveat, ça va sans dire.
(weird, I use it a lot, ça va sans dire: it's an habit I picked up from a used-to-be-frient that I have apparently wounded very deeply and cruelly in all the different aspects of his frail macho ego. It hurts a little bit each time I say it, because I miss him. Hang on, no, this is not completely true either: I miss the man I came to know and admire and felt happy and proud to have as a friend, I don't miss the resentful, smart aleck drama queen he turned out to be in the end. So the French expression reminds of what could have been and won't be instead; it's a bittersweet, memory and present blur and become music, a weird mix of Wilco, the Smiths and the Pogues).

Mmmmh, I think I should go and delete the parenthesis, but it's a story I haven't stomached fully yet  (one day I'll probably write something about it in a less emotional and more structured way) so it feels fine to let it off my chest even if only a little bit.

Anyway, back to the not-so-much-not-running-away thing. I obviously meant it as a "I won't leave everything as it is to just migrate in a different country, leaving chaos and unsorted business at my back". But I still need time away.
That's why after having spent a weekend in Torino and then another weekend around Berlin, the past weekend saw me getting on a train, destination Ravenna.
Because of a series of unplanned (my subconscious disagrees on that) circumstances, I won't be spending a single weekend in Milan until the middle of July. Unless I can come up with some other dastardly awesome plan that will keep me in Milan only during the working week for some extra weeks months.

I can see some danger in it. Not because I'm extremely wise, but because my friend Barbara pointed out very wisely that I just can't live for the Friday evening.
That's what I'm doing and plan of doing for the next 30-60 days, is it wise? Is it any different from the life I'd normally have if I stayed in Milan.
And maybe running away a little bit on a regular basis can still be more bearable to me, rather than accumulate frustration and bitterness, only to explode and run away big style.
I don't know what could be the right solution, I just know that a weekend in Ravenna and an hellish return journey provided by Trenitalia left me utterly tired yet happy, relieved I didn't spent them in Milan trying to fit it and failing at it.

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