April 15, 2016
Oh no. Cabbage.
BUM.
I find myself sitting on the ground with a mountain of clothes on; but where the hell do they come from (?), I didn't remember all this big mess. It will be more than 15 years since someone has come down to this basement, until my mother asked me to help her with the imminent move.
My name is Elene and I have spent most of my life in this house together with my mother, my father and my two brothers; and have been married for 9 years to a wonderful man, Michael..the only stubborn man who has ever been able to make me fall in love with someone again..him.
I get up giving myself a quick dusting and decide to throw out the other remaining clothes in the closet; at the bottom I notice a box completely sealed with scotch tape, above an inscription in large letters with an indelible black marker "MEMORIES". I didn't remember such a thing..I would be very tempted to open it, but I find myself looking up and the huge mountain of clothes brings me back to reality and, therefore, it's time to roll up my sleeves..I'll watch later.
**
Damn, I'm destroyed. I didn't think it was so tiring, I think next time I'll think twice before offering to do something like this..even if I must say that the result is satisfying! I take the famous box and run upstairs to my old room, curiosity is eating me up...I manage to open it with the help of a kitchen knife, and when I see the contents I almost can't believe it: newspapers, old school notebooks, my term paper diploma and, at the bottom, a notebook with a London cover that reads "BLUE BUS DRIVERS: I'LL ALWAYS REMEMBER YOU". I can't believe it, I had really forgotten this... it dates back to my last year of high school and contains letters, writings, photos and everything that has to do with those wonderful people who had the guts to put up with me for 5 years: the drivers. Then from one point this notebook is dedicated to infatuation, or maybe love, which I've never forgotten…Peter. A bloody wrong love, in all its forms, but a love that still today, at the age of 36, just reading that name gives me shivers down my back and colors my cheeks. Maybe you're thinking that I'm a bitch, I'm married and the thought of another man shouldn't even cross my mind... and maybe you're right. But as they say (?): the first love is never forgotten!
I look around and a smile appears on my lips.. I'm alone and with a lot of time available; and to be honest, I wouldn't mind being a teenager again for a while. Come on, let's dive into the past..