Fighting to Be Free

I weaved the familiar path to get to my desired destination, the Piazza della Signoria. The square was fairly busy even though a quick glance at the clock on the expansive building told me it wasn’t even ten a.m. I smiled to myself and walked across the huge square, letting my eyes rake over the statues that they had dotted around. I stopped next to the copy of Michelangelo’s David and cocked my head to the side as my eyes wandered over it. I had seen this lots of times already because we’d come to this square everyday of the last week for coffee, but still, the beauty of this statue never ceased to amaze me.

My stomach gave a little squeeze as I could hear people chattering and laughing off to one side in the café that I just loved to death because they did the most incredible pastries. Taking one last look at the statue I turned and headed to my desired destination, it was fairly busy already but I managed to grab the last outside table. I smiled as I sat down under the shade of the umbrella; it still had a perfect view of the square. Why people would choose to sit inside when they had this beautiful view was beyond me.

The waitress came over immediately taking my coffee and pastry order, then I sat back in my chair and relaxed as I watched the people walk past going to work, or the tourists as they cooed over everything and took pictures.

“Mi scusi.” I turned to see a kind faced older lady smiling warmly at me. “É libero questo posto?”

I winced, smiling apologetically because I had no idea what she said. “I’m sorry, I don’t…. um…. Non parlo italiano?” I prayed that was right because as beautiful as the Italian language sounded to me, all I knew how to say was no thank you, where are the bathrooms and how much. That was as far as my knowledge went.

She laughed and nodded. “Ah, you are American, si?”

I grinned. “Si,” I confirmed.

She motioned towards the chair opposite me. “May I sit with you?” she asked in English, her voice thick with accent.

“Oh! Of course!” I agreed, blushing because of course that’s what she was asking me. Now I felt stupid for not understanding.

She smiled gratefully and pulled out the chair, sitting down. “It is too hot to sit inside, no?”

I nodded in agreement, leaning back as the waitress brought my coffee and cake and set them on the table in front of me. The lady at my table smiled and placed her order as I stirred in my sugar already wishing it would cool so I could drink it.

“So, you are alone in Florence?”

My head snapped up at her question. How do I answer that? I shrugged, trying not to think about it.

“Sort of.” Was the only thing I could think of to say. She looked at me curiously, obviously waiting for me to continue and explain, but I didn’t want to, it was too hard to say out loud, it was too painful to even think about it so I tried my hardest to block it out altogether.

“A bella ragazza like you should not be alone,” she stated, smiling at me curiously.

I smiled weakly but turned my attention back to people watching in the square so that she wouldn’t continue to talk to me. I no longer wanted the cake, and even the coffee had lost its appeal. My mind wandered to Jamie even though I had forbidden myself to even think of his name. I gulped as my chest tightened and my breathing came out a little shallow as raw emotion started to build up inside me. I tried not to think about him. That day was still so fresh in my mind that the pain of having my hopes dashed time and time again made my heart ache, even after three weeks.

I hadn’t heard from him at all. Jamie had asked his friend Ray to come to the airport and meet me that day. Just as I had gotten my hopes up that everything was fine, that I would get a happy ending with him, my dream was crushed again when I turned around and saw that it wasn’t the love of my life standing there after all. Ray had given me this big long sympathetic speech about how Jamie had always been afraid of commitment, about how he’d never settle down and that it wasn’t my fault. I’d cried and cried, not understanding how he could just suddenly change his mind about me.

But Ray had insisted that once Jamie decided something that he never went back on it, that if he told me that it was over, then it really was over.

It had hurt so much that I can still feel the painful squeezing of my heart as I pictured Ray’s sympathetic expression as he cupped my elbow, holding me steady when my knees went weak. That expression on his face had made me realise that I wasn’t ready to face it yet, I wasn’t ready to tell people that the guy I wanted to spend my life with, had rejected me and crushed me beyond repair.

Looking at Ray as he smiled with understanding and tried to make me feel better, I knew that I needed to get away and have a clean break. The loudspeaker had called for my flights again just as the thought had formed in my head, and I took that as a sign that I should just leave. So that was exactly what I did.

I’d dried my tears, forced a smile, shoved Jamie’s plane ticket into Ray’s chest and told him to tell Jamie that he was an ass**le and that he was welcome to the blonde Barbie lookalike that was nastier in bed than I was, and then I’d lifted my chin and marched over to the check-in desk.

I’d hoped that by putting some distance between us, that I’d leave my problems behind, leave the grief behind, but that didn’t work. The heartbreak had just followed me to Rome and overshadowed the beauty of everything that was around me. I was so lonely and broken that I didn’t leave the hotel room for four days, and then on the fifth day I’d ventured out to the market and had run into someone - literally, ran into someone - and from then on they seemed to make it their mission to make me smile again. It seemed to be working a little. Each day got just that little bit easier, just that little bit less painful. But I still fought with my mind constantly when it wanted to return to thinking about the brown haired bad boy that had ripped out my heart and left me a big ugly mess. I didn’t think I’d ever get over him, I would always pine for him and miss his company, but I knew that one day I’d go a whole day without thinking of him and what I’d lost - at least, I prayed I’d make it a whole day anyway.