" ...quello che mi chiedo, a volte, e adesso è proprio una di quelle volte, è cosa cazzo ci faccio ancora qui."
Mi guardasti stupita. Come se tu non l'avessi capito da un pezzo che razza di merda io fossi. Lo sapevi, e nonostante questo avevi avuto l'incoscienza di credere che avresti potuto cambiarmi.
"...quello che mi sconvolge, a volte, e adesso è proprio una di quelle volte, è che le donne del terzo millennio non abbiano ancora capito che gli uomini non cambiano."
Credevi di potermi redimere, credevi che lavorandoci avresti potuto farmi tornare sulla retta via, farmi abbandonare questa mia vita fatta vice, a colossal hangover, fuck in the processes of the worst clubs in the city, a fierce wake up at three in the afternoon.
"... what I believe now is that you did not want to change anything. In fact, my being rubbish, my being a shit, was the only thing that attracts you. If I had really changed, as if I You told a million times I pulled out the diamond hidden inside me, now that you would be bored, that you ask what the fuck are we still doing here, you'd make me the speech that I'm doing. "
Here's what you wanted: save then be able to say I did it, to tell about how I had pulled out of alcoholism and all the other crap in my life. I still remember when you arrived home I was quite delighted with that stronzissima shirt and told me that I had set a job interview. I went to the interview, yes, one of the usual T-shirts and one of my best booze. The shirt is still hanging in the closet, if I was a little 'shit I could not give it away to the poor.
"... what you should do now is put in a box all of your junk and remove the noise. By the way, take back the shirt. I do not need. Give her the poor."
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