Here is a guest blogger who also has a blog!
The true romantic in me believes this story & hopes that it is as wonderful as it says it is, however the cynic in me thinks this story is a load of bollocks… Which one are you? Romantic or Cynic?
The Wedding Cake
After all, it’s easy to lose hope when you’re looking for love, isn’t it?
So many tales of betrayal, broken relationships, swiping left and right, dick pics and commitment phobic men (and women) out there in our culture. Sometimes it seems that people have become so interchangeable, so disposable, that it’s become acceptable to discard them without any warning in the cowardliest of the cowardly act of ‘ghosting’ (If we have a term for it, it must be a thing!).
It’s easy to lose hope, right? That good people are out there, looking for the same thing we are: to love and be loved in return – isn’t that the holy grail – or the wedding cake, if you will? But how do you believe in that when so many people lie about their intentions to get what they need?
When friend after friend tells you of their failed attempts to find what they’re looking for: a love so strong, that not even years and/or miles between two people can dull its lustre, that someone would choose them over all the other options they have out there, how can you not become cynical about love?
Recently I was talking to a friend of mine; a fairly busy woman, full-time single mum, upon full-time Italian teacher, upon part-time student who was seeking a moment of tranquillity in her otherwise hectic day at the park in front of the Arts Centre – you know the one?! She sat on a bench in front of a pond and took a deep breath of fresh air, feeling herself relax. She noticed that a man had sat down next to her, and turned to see an elderly, fairly short, weathered-looking man smiling at her. Now, this happens to her all the time, people tell her their stories without any encouragement from her – she has one of those faces – so she smiled back. He asked her, ‘Are you Italian?’ ‘Yes, I am’ she replied, ‘are you?‘ No, he explained, ‘I’m French, but in the war, I fought in Italy. While I was there I met an Italian woman and I never forgot her.’
A secret sucker for a love story (a closet romantic, but she’d be mortified if people knew), she asked him to tell her more. They met when he went to her village in Italy, and after the shortest time, they fell in love. He was mesmerised by her, and though they couldn’t understand each other well (a recipe for a happy relationship in my opinion) they felt like they had known each other forever.
‘And then what happened?’ she enquired. ‘A friend had told me about Australia, I wanted to go there, and for her to marry me and come with me, but she was promised to another man by her parents. She said she could not come with me, it was not the right time.’ And so he left, unable to pass up the opportunity for a better life, settled in Melbourne and met his wife. They had children and he had a great life here, exactly as his friend had promised, but he confessed that from time to time he thought of his Italian girl. He always wondered what she was doing, but didn’t have any way of contacting her.
Oh, she thought, disappointed… but the story didn’t end there. Many years later, his wife died and, noticing that he was lonely, an Italian friend of his invited him to his home for his granddaughter’s birthday party. He could not believe his eyes when, at his friend’s house, he saw a woman who bore a striking resemblance his Italian girl!! He wasn’t sure that it was her, but he asked, not prepared to lose the chance again. They spoke at length of their lives; her husband had passed away also after they had come to Australia together. All this time, they had been in the same place, but had no way to contact each other! Somehow, fate had led them back to each other, and now they are together.
It’s easy to lose hope, right? But then you hear a story like this…
Here is her blog: https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/156817670/posts/60