Time goes too fast, and I got quite surprised — thinking about this story — when I realized that more than 10 years passed since these events. And yes, once again, it is about a girl: the girl next door.
As it happen often, I remember quite well the circumstances under which we met for the first time. Easy to guess: I knocked on her door. Actually, she was not the girl next door, yet. I had just applied to get a place at my university’s dormitory, and I had to express my preference for a room.
And this girl opened
There were rooms available in all four dormitories at the campus. Each of them named after the construction date: Vecchissima, Vecchia, Nuova and Nuovissima (literally “Oldest, Old, New and Newest”). Each house had its rules and people living there had a specific attitude. The Nuovissima one was mostly populated by individualistic students focused on their studies, the Nuova was more of a socialistic party land, the Vecchia was a communist nightmare and the Vecchissima was a scary place to enter.
Needless to say, I picked up the Newest one. Few rooms were available there. My favorite, on the paper, was one on the seventh floor, with a small window facing the sea. A pearl in a shell. However, I decided to visit the room, before expressing my option. I knocked on the door, and waited. But no one came to open. So I tried with the door next to my future room, and this girl opened.
Yes, I’d love to
Eventually, I moved in this nice small room at the seventh floor. And from time to time, I was talking in the corridor with my new neighbor. The girl had long dark hair, and I always suspected she forgot often to eat, as absorbed she was in her studies. We really got in friendly terms, but I was really busy with my lectures in the morning, and the night shifts at the ambulance service. “We should go to the movie theater together” — I said once. “Yes, I’d love to” — her answer. Three years had to pass before we actually did it. However, this was long time after this story.
The picture of my girlfriend
One night, few months after I moved in, we were chatting in the corridor, with another couple of guys living there. Hours went fast, and the others slowly went to sleep. We stayed there, in front of our doors, unwilling to say good night.
I donno if I asked her to enter, or if she just followed me, but at some point we went to my room. Nothing really happened. We lay down on my bed, with our cloths on, and kept talking. That night, we did not sleep.
Only when the first rays of light entered in the room, in the morning, she looked at the picture of my girlfriend, there on the bookshelf.
After some long minutes
“She is really pretty.”
“Yes, she is.”
“What are you going to tell her?”
I had a moment of hesitation. I liked this girl. But I was not ready to answer this question. She stood up, and walked toward the window. We were both in silence. One looking at the sea, the other looking at her profile. After some long minutes, she left the room, and I was alone with my thoughts.
I never said it
In the next days, we met in the corridor. We exchanged some words. But we never talked again about that night of confidences, hugs and promises never expressed. So the things went on like that for weeks, months, years. I changed a few girlfriends. We finally went to the cinema together, and to drink some beers. But I never dared to open that page, again.
So, this post, more than ten years later, it is my way to say sorry.
More stories on dating
- A girl I met on a train.
- I do not know where she is today.
- A brunette playing some sport.
- A blond Russian girl.
- Ten girls I have been dating.
- How to break up.
- I never had a black girlfriend.
A photo gallery of Megan Fox. I am not really sure if I like her as an actress, but the girl is really cute. I have published another nice collection of pictures of Megan Fox here. Hope you like them too. And do not miss the black and white images of Megan Fox, at the bottom of this post!