Who knows (taste of regret)

Memories are treacherous: you're sure that they're elaborated, rationalized and stored in the back of your mind to explain all your life's events… and then, little removed details suddenly come to light, awaken by the smallest feeling. And so you understand, in that short instant, the reasons of many of your behaviours. Thus, when my seven-year-old daughter insists on making me taste that so-called "strawberry milk", I'm not expecting what's about to happen. It happens that the so-called milk tastes like strawberry chewing-gum. So what?! So much, instead. 'Cause that's the same taste of my first kiss, so long ago. I remembered having thought two things: "Tastes like strawberry" and "that's it?!" But then that beautiful sensation came back to my mind, for a short instant. Having the whole world at my feet. Having all that I wanted. My mind empty, no thoughts. Pure happiness. It lasted just a moment, then and now. And since that day -that evening, I mean- I never dreamed of flying anymore. My analyst told me it's because I'm not able to let myself go. Of course. The bruises of the crash, when you fall, remain, they don't heal. It's called "growing up".
Then there was my first time. My first time tasted like tears. Not because of the pain –not only that, at least- but because it represented freedom. Freedom from taboos, from concerns... concerns of what?! After all these years I can't recall it, but sometimes that taste of freedom comes back to my mind, oh yes.

And then so much water flowed, under the bridges. Bridges of life, death, pain and joy. And then he crossed the bridge. He seemed so far from me that I must have been on a boat. Our affair was a matter of distance and lack, more than normality. That normality which -who knows- could have destroyed us. Our desire was fed by the impossibility of living it -or, who knows, it could have been real love. And after all, "real" depends on those who live it. And we both lived it, but each one in his corner, afraid of the possibility that the whole world could have put us to the test and asked us a reason for being us, and not simply "me" and "you". I insisted on saying that a dream can change the whole world's mind, and persuade it. When you're young you're sooo ingenuous, sometimes. But then maybe -who knows- if you try, maybe the world is ready to be changed by a dream. And then maybe -who knows- we would have fallen upon that normality that scared us so much. All that I know is that, when I hugged him, in that fake friendship's farewell in which each one really wished the other one to find a way that would finally separate us... well, I tasted tears once again. But they didn't taste like freedom, this time. They tasted sour, they were talking about regret. And if I think of us now, and despite everything I look at my normality, that doesn't scare me anymore, since I'm far from him... I can still taste that flavour in my mouth.
And I think, who knows?