a beautiful love story
today. 11:45 a.m. i hop in a car that will take me to fiumicino. i don't usually talk to the drivers but today i did. and i'm glad because i heard a beautiful love story. and now as i wait in line to collect a ticket. i am uplifted. so here it goes...
g: i was 18. she was 22. it was 1969. i was working at a hotel. she arrived with a group from japan. in those days there weren't as many japanese as there are now. it was love at first sight. the group left to go to london but she stayed in rome. at the end of the holiday she had to go back to japan. but for two years we wrote. every day. so in love were we. i am working every day. including the holidays to get enough money for a ticket to japan. i couldn't ask my parents. even if they wanted to help me they couldn't have. so i think of a way to get to japan. via the transiberian. 12 days. and then 1 1/2 days to cross over from siberia. i stayed 40 days. her father was hostile yet hospitable too. he made it clear that i could stay but that when i was gone it would be over. i called my mother, she told me that i had been summoned for military service. at the airport she and i cried floods of tears. she told me she thought this would be the last time she would ever see me. i returned. heart-broken. her father forced her to marry. an american. she had two children. i married and had two children. we never spoke again. 22 years later, unbeknown to us we both divorced. the same month. the same year. i felt the need to track her down. i did. via friend of hers who told me she had been searching me all these years. her letters had been intercepted by my family. she calls me. i cannot utter a sound. just to say ask where she was. brussels. in 3 hours am there with nothing but a passport and some loose change. we have never been parted since. these past 10 years have made up for all the time apart. her mother came to visit. and had a little handbag. in it there was 500,000 euros. she said it was for us. to rebuild the life that had been robbed us.
g: this year we're going to see the salmons in iceland. can you believe it?
f: yes
g: do you believe in one true great love?
f: yes
g: i thought so. have a safe trip
f: you too
9 comments:
my heart skipped a beat as i read that post. utterly amazing, for real. (sigh)
As predicted I cried. Moving... a good plot for a movie...poppycorny and tissues.
These stories exists because we live of hopes and some of them have to become true. But it's like believing in miracles. They are rare.
The last time you talked to a taxi driver was about your life dictated by the day you were born.
I suggest either you take up rollerblading to the airport or you start your on maurizio costanzo show, you are in the right city afterall.
How sweet nonetheless.
mmm yes i do have a trackrecord with taxi drivers. the incident you were referring to goes something like this.
driver shows me an etching of a RAM ("this is what i am" - a capricorn)and flips it around to show a playboy bunny ("and this is what i like.")
f: errrrrrrrr
driver: so what sign are you?
f: virgo
driver: what is your rising sign?
f: virgo
driver: ooh that menas you're bisexual
f: oh. erm. i think i'll get off here. thanks.
Awwww- bless. Original story that this is, not perv driver one above.
I loved this entry. Everyone knows I live for romance, I even own a copy of The Thorn Birds and Sleepless in Seatle, but there is one thing I don't understand. Why does he still work as a driver when he has 500 Euros?
Ooh, the Thorn birds. Now we're talking... love, tragedy, religion. You see, we all love it...
bollocks
i think it would have been sweeter if the sack of cash (?!) had been left off at the end. that's where i got my (ron) howard hives.
horrid cynics the pair of you.
i think the cash would come in quite handy. and nothing says sorry better than a wad of bills.
Post a Comment