Crossing the world

I would not have been more than six years old, but at that young age I got my hopes up for him. He was so beautiful! Mom's finger pointed to his image on the page of the book. That first time I heard of him, I saw him bowing to a princess, from the saddle of his white steed, holding out his hand,with an unruly lock of hair over his dreamy eyes, freeing her from the evils of the world!

Someday you will have your prince charming. Be patient, you will see him come across the world to meet you! Mom said to me, to my astonished silence, as if she could read my thoughts. An inexplicable shame came over me.

From then on I waited for him and from that moment on I saw him in my persistent dreams, always on horseback, with his tuft of hair rolling over his face.

Oh, how many dreamlike meadows we rode through, and how many times he lifted me off the ground from the saddle of his white horse, saving me from the harsh reality of a fictitious life. In my dreams I was always full, accompanying the sound of the wind with my laughter, feeling the warmth of the sun on my face, with the feeling of completeness that can only be experienced in dreams.

In the reality of the day, while awake, I was never unhappy. Neither when I was a restless child, nor when I was an inquisitive teenager, systematically analyzing the happiness of my friends in love and their boyfriends in flesh and blood. I had the serene certainty that I myself was destined for a sublime love, a perfect love. It was just a matter of waiting for it, with patience.

Then came college. Many times, I heard sweet words related to my dreams. There were multiple and punctual circumstances. Immersed in my books, sitting on garden benches or concentrating, rummaging through library shelves, or simply lost in a department store....

"Can I help you with something beautiful princess?"

"It's not possible for such a beautiful princess to be so lonely! "

"You are like a generous princess from a fairy tale! "

"Ask me for the moon and I'll give it to you, princess! "

"I would go around the world for you, if you would be my princess. "

Sometimes the illusion invaded me and I gave in to it, only to realize that the momentary love I was living did not fulfill the condition of sublime.

It was at that time that I developed my passion for reading, my love for travel, and chess and music as hobbies. I learned to live with myself and be content with it. I made friends, got to know my favorite cities in the world and ate in their restaurants, built a well-stocked library and won a few chess tournaments.

At that time I let myself be convinced by a good love. A committed love, faithful to promises. Daniel did not arrive on a white horse, nor did he promise me the moon, but at least he had an unruly tuft of hair on his forehead and a kindness that was foolproof.

It was about time! my parents exclaimed as a duo, relieved.

When Helena was born it seemed like my life was complete. It was for a long time until Helena grew up, went to college, met her prince charming, got married and left home. Helena went to live in another country and had a child, leaving a hole at home, and in my heart, that I could no longer fill with anything else.

Daniel also suffered from the empty nest syndrome. With Helena's departure our common interests vanished and our space was filled with silences.

Two years later we agreed to end our mutual commitment. We parted as good friends, promising each other friendship forever and wishing each other the best of luck.

Daniel and I were the same age, just a few days apart. On his 54th birthday, I met his girlfriend, a beautiful and sweet woman, whom Daniel kept hugging. I wished them much happiness. Daniel did not know how to live alone, I had learned how to do it.

I had a job, I returned to my reading, my hobbies, my travels. At that time the prince on horseback, who had been lost in the depths of my dreams, returned to me. When I awoke, I welcomed him with mischievous joy.

One afternoon, at the beginning of autumn, I met Carlos. I was sitting on the banks of the Arno, very close to the oldest bridge in Florence. I was playing a solitary game on a chessboard for public use. He came up beside me. He was wearing a striking orange raincoat.

"To match, with the carpet of leaves." I thought.

He invited me to play, we introduced ourselves and chatted.

"You're not a bad player." I told him with some self-importance.

"Neither are you." he replied kindly.

We started on a first-name basis right away.

The game dragged on. In the meantime we learned that we had coincided in time in three different cities, and that, on one of those occasions, we had traveled on the same plane, that he was a chess champion at his university, and that music had saved him when he lost his wife.

During the game nothing was further from my mind than my old dream of a prince on horseback until I saw his move.

He was threatening my queen with his white knight!

I didn't see it coming. My queen threatened by a white knight!

I raised my eyes from the board, his look had become almost jocular. He seemed to enjoy my astonishment.

Meanwhile I debated between catching the precious images of my dreams or winning the game.

I decided on the latter. I remembered my favorite lab move: The queen's dance.

I had what it took, that's how I cornered his king and checkmated him.

Carlos and I returned many times to that bridge.