When my heart left on the bus...
Two years ago, my friends and I were on one of the best trips of our lives. Thanks to the constant support of mom and dad, and also some business of our Uni, this story takes place in Italy, exactly in the streets of Rome, the city where every corner has a piece of history. There we were, Gustav, René, and I, three guys wandering through the streets where the fierce Roman Warriors once walked. The warm sun of a September morning was the perfect match to visit one of the oldest witnesses of World History, the Colosseum.
"Colosseum" is not only a big old Roman building (actually it is an "amphitheater"), it's also the name of the stop where millions of tourists get in to see and enjoy this enormous piece of art. Hence, we got on the bus to make way to our destination. Sitting next to the window, watching the ancient walls being covered by the shadow of the trees was a total pleasure. The small talk with Gustav about our expectations was nice, though it was interrupted every time René reminded us how many stops were left. During our ride, and about three stops before our stop, an elderly couple got on our bus, so Gustav and I offered our sits to them. The talk continued with the three of us standing on the floor plate, hanging from the roof tube.
How big it is, how it made it until today, how many historic events have taken place in there... I really was into the conversation, until I turned my head around to see where we were at that moment. That's when the name of this story makes sense because, at this point, I started to lose concentration (or maybe I was concentrating on something -or someone- else). As you can imagine, there she was. Sitting on the penultimate row of the bus, next to the door. Frankly, there were pretty women all around Rome, but this was the first time I got an "instant crush" on someone. A thoughtful Roman girl of my age. I was 21 back then, she might have been 22, in my fascinated view. I don't know if it was the black and red knife-pleated skirt or her black blouse, her short black hair or her skin like white porcelain, the silver necklaces around her neck, or the dark shadows on her blue eyes.
René said that the next stop was ours. I hadn't taken my eyes off that girl, but as soon as my friend said so, I realized that if I was meant to make move, my time was running out. For a while, I thought of the times when I didn't do something and regretted it afterward. In fact, I didn't want to have any regret about my trip. That would have pursued me for ages. Therefore, it was time to act. A lot of people believe that Spanish and Italian are intelligible, that's true. Anyway, sometimes that doesn't happen, and messing it up was the last thing I wanted to do in my only chance to say something to that girl. On the other hand, people also say that when in Rome, do as the Romans do. Hence, I wasn't supposed to say something in English, which was my plan. Speaking Italian was the key.
According to Gustav's phone, we were about two minutes to be at Colosseum, and had decided to Speak Italian, the next thing to define was what. Two minutes can pass by without noticing it, but for me, every second counted, because who would have know when I would see her again. To tell the truth, I didn't know if I would be in Italy again. Thus, I had no choice rather than saying what my heart was feeling at that moment. I opened "Google Translate" and texted "You are so beautiful". It wasn't that simple, because those four words had a giant amount of feelings above them. But not a big amount of time. The box next to my text said "Sei cosi bella". The bus already stopped. There was no minute to hear the speaker say it for me to learn. So I decided to pronounce it with my Ecuadorian Spanish accent.
The time to get off the bus had come. While Gustav and René were moving to the exit, I slowed my pace behind them so I could say what I was meant to say to her. Then, I got in front of her. There was no more beautiful thing than those gorgeous light blue eyes, except that those eyes looking at you. I blushed as red as my sweater, but after a deep breath, I pronounced "Hey, sei cosi bella", followed by my confident smile. After that, a sweet voice, along with the dark shadows covering her closed eyes, said: "Grazie", and of course, her lovely smile next. I felt fulfilled, and motivated enough to keep walking towards the exit. My friends asked me why I took so long to get off, and I just told them that I was missing something.
In The Colosseum, we had an incredible time watching all the ancient structures, walking around 2000 years of history. However, I really felt that something inside was missing. Of course, it was my heart that had left on the bus. But at the same time, I had no regret, because I did on time what I had to do, and most important, what I felt that I wanted to do. It's important to follow what your heart says because it will bring you peace and joy, for sure. Even if it hurts later. Because one never knows when it would be the last chance to do something. Did I win something? I didn't know her name, neither her address nor a phone number. But that smiling for my try of Italian was priceless, and of course, I felt its warm embrace. At the end of the day, my missing heart will recover, the same way as my skin or my bones do, but that deep feeling will remain, and it's a lovely memory of that trip.
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