• I never really knew what makes a smile.

    My life had always been a descending rollercoster and even though, just like the real ones, it occasionally had its ups, unfortunately I never knew how to enjoy them, always preferring getting prepared for the unavoidable down with a face without expression, a heart without warmth.

    The city around me was with me in this rollercoster, taking all the seats it had to offer in a sober order, and even if the "keep your arms in the cart at all times" sign weren't there perfectly showing, I'm sure no one of them would feel the adrenaline of breaking that almost unnecessary rule, not one of them (and not even me) would even try to have some fun out of the descend with their arms up in the air.

    There are so many reasons why I smiled so seldom... Some of them almost seem like stupid excuses, but others are completely real. And even when I forced my lips into a curve, I knew well I wasn't smiling, because a smile isn't supposed to hurt so much, and neither was I supposed to want it to end quickly. Even if it looked pretty and perfect, that fake smile was invisible to the people who can see the invisible, and those people would see my face squirming in a squint of pain.

    I really never knew what makes a smile. Until you came.

    It was your same smile that made you stand out of the grey crowd, your spring-like explosion of color and warmth had a glow that almost hurt my eyes (just like that first beam of sunlight when you open the window after the dark night), and it didn't take much to have all my attention nailed on you.

    I spoke to you and you spoke to me. Just speaking to you alone made me feel my lips curve. It was obvious you weren't from around, but nonetheless you helped me, and in a way so easy and practical you explained me everything, you answered all my questions.

    What makes a smile, then?

    Every day we did something new, something unusual even for the excentric people, something we had never tried before. Jump into the ducks' lake and mimic their clumsy swimming; pick up flowers forced to grown in a particular order in an artificial garden and feel the (finally free) petals falling on our heads, sing and dance in the middle of the street, offer a hello or a present not purchased with money to random people.

    Smiles were the obvious result of these experiences: the given and the received, all of them memorable, all of them real.

    We also tried simpler things, non-routine things, but easier to accomplish. You talked to me of everything I had never talked about to anyone, you held my hand as we walked, you kissed me whenever you wanted (curvy kisses, since they took the shape of our lips), you held me everytime our hearts wanted to speak in private, you made love to me everytime all the rest wasn't enough for you to show me the meaning of the glow in your eyes. Another flood of real smiles.

    And then I understood.

    A smile is nothing more than the natural and positive reaction to a break of our routines, it is a beautiful and contagious invitation for variety to our lives.

    Ever since you came into my life smiles have succeeded themselves endlessly, because to every invitation of mine you reply with a new one, and actually this world (even this city dying at heart) has limitless living possibilities, all it takes to find them is look for them and act spontaneously.

    Now that I understand, we walk here together, two spots of glow in the grey ocean. Today we are here and doing this, tomorrow we'll maybe be somewhere else, but doing something different for sure.

    If only people weren't blind to our glow! If only that glow could hurt their eyes for a mere second just to help them open forever afterwards!