san valentino

February 14, 2019

I met my husband on Valentine’s Day, in the canteen of the Florentine language school we were both enrolled at. I was wearing a white French Connection t-shirt, black crêpe tuxedo trousers and black biker boots. The magnetic pull was so strong, that I crossed the room to talk to him. I don’t remember much of what what we said, but I do know that I called my Mum later and left a rambling message about the beautiful man I’d just met. I’d told her that he had silver hair, which sent her into a flat spin because she thought he was 55. That part always makes me laugh. He was 21. I was 19. He danced the Macarena that evening, in front of everyone in the canteen. This was an anomaly, I later realized. As was the whole day.

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