Rome deserves not only a post but a library written about 

Which if we gather all the books ever written about the magnificent Rome, I am sure will make a thousand libraries, not only one. But, really, who can blame all the dreamers, lovers, writers, philosophers, eternal seeking of themselves, travel addicted, historians…wanting to capture Rome in words? Me not, and I don’t even have the arrogance to believe I can ever “catch” Rome in a phrase. As Rome is free and wild and will never be tamed.

Maybe you have figured it out by now that I love Rome? But really words cannot fathom how I feel about this city: Rome is breathing emotions and beauty. Rome is art. Rome is pure history. Rome is “mercatos”, clementines and lemons and spaghetti “cacio pepe”. Oh, Rome is espresso and noise and dust and suffocating heat and Villa Borghese. Rome is drama and mystery, Rome is wild, Rome is me and I am Rome.

Feel this is too strong? Well, multiply it by 100. And maybe, just maybe, you will understand.

The first time we’ve met, me and her (yes, Rome is actually a drama queen) we’ve hit it off instantly. And, I shall embarrass myself and mention that I cried, I really don’t know why but I’ve been sobbing my heart out. That strong it was. It happens almost every time we see each other. And feels good. Great even. (Don’t start on me with your psychological interpretations).  And I went back on and on. I cannot seem to get enough. Because it feels free and because is warm, so warm and non judgemental, and it feels she accepts me truly as I am, and sometimes just visiting yet another cathedral, I am so mesmerised by the beauty that I could spend hours just staring at the majestic ceiling , or sometimes, just passing the over acclaimed colosseum I can see Spartacus win yet another fight (ok, maybe I can see that a bit because of the romans dressed as gladiators), or because I can see casually lemon trees and I believe lemon trees are the best trees.

Some people would talk bad about her: how can you? is dirty and full of tourists and the heat is unbearable and pick pockets and bla bla bla. Background noise. We love each other, me and Rome. Now, don’t stay in our way. And if you are to talk bad about her, do it out of my sight, we will always have our back.

Because, someday, Rome and I will be together. For good.

Alla prossima.


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