On that flight heading towards Milan few days later, I see her again. This time, hiding her heartbreak in her eyes behind golden bangs. She unsuccessfully tries to choke her tears, dark sunglasses her last attempt to hide herself.
Three years ago I was there. Somewhere between Rome and Milan, I was there, in that same world they were caught in this June 2006. I remember how the pain in my heart created what seemed to be an endless flood of tears for days followed by regular and intense showers for many months.
I felt this strong urge to give each of them a hug and tell them that things will be ‘better’ –a ‘better’ they would not understand at this stage I’d dare to assume. I badly wanted to shout in their ears that the tears they are shedding will only make them become stronger, that these outbreaks will only help them get through their pain, disappointment and frustration and heal their wounds, that breathing the way they’re doing is not a weakness, nothing to be ashamed of, nothing that they need to hide but rather a means of surviving … yes, that things will be better after all.
And there I was, crying again this year. They say that ‘every heartache holds a remembering’ and I’m afraid it is true. Just when I thought that my pain has long gone, seeing them, feeling them combined with coping with a new personal emotional challenge brought back a great deal of sorrow. I cried for quite a few days but with one major development this time. I cried while knowing deep down that my tears will strengthen me, free me and help me overcome this new challenge. I just hope that deep down they knew it too or will realize it soon at least … it just makes things more tolerable and gives us hope for better days.