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An old friend of mine, one of those you grow up with and then grow apart, but not completely, one that you can always trust and write when you don’t feel complete or broken, sent me a message to say he would be at his parents’ , close to where my parents’ Β live, while I was in Italy.

It was nice to see him again, he is a good friend, a very good one, even if we are so different and live so far away. Sometimes moments can be awkward because we know we both are shy, but nonetheless try pretending we are not (or am I wrong mysterious friend of mine?), but eventually he has one of those great and simple ideas only he can have, and then we have fun for the rest of the evening, usually playing funny games, sending smoke signals and taking pictures of the stars.