I love blogging here, I've made so many friends doing it and I will continue as long as it's this rewarding. I wonder, do any of you have Instagram? I'm mydarlingstephanie, what are your names? Feel free to follow me! <3


Where is she?

Someone asked me if I called Avy, and I did. I did but she didn't answer and she didn't call back. Instead she keeps posting stories about her and Henry, as if to annoy me. Does she know I'm reading, does she care? Does she read what I post here? I don't know, how could I when I can't even reach her?

And I know I shouldn't care, Henry is history and I have Tom now, at least I think I do. Maybe that's not the problem, I think that maybe I just need some proper closure. I need to talk to her to be able to go on, to start all over again with myself.

Thank you all for listening to my ramblings, it really does mean the world to me.


Landing softly

I've woken up in my own bed four days in a row now. Mom is out by the pool early in the morning, Salvatore makes me breakfast and no one asks me any questions. It bothered me at first but now I think it's exactly what I need. I feel calm, I can breathe again and nothing seems so important that it can't wait for a few hours.

And my best friend. When I try, when I really try, I'm not even angry. I don't know what it would be like to see her but I imagine her hugging me and telling me she's missed me. I want to call her but I'm afraid it might not turn out that way so I let it wait for a few hours. There's plenty of time still.


Square one

I came home yesterday, to Los Angeles. I rang the door bell, my mother let me in and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "He isn't here" she said, referring to my father, before I even asked. I had been away for months and at dinner a couple of hours later it was as if nothing had happened. No one asked me where I had been, what I had done, how I was. Mom talked about herself and Salvatore sat in silence for an hour.

I would have felt guilty, but she talked to me, not just past me like she usually does. I guess it means she cares somehow, maybe even that she missed me, but she didn't have the courage to ask any questions.

And speaking of courage, I'm tired of hiding behind a letter. I did it to protect my family but I'm not sure what from. My name isn't just S, it's Stephanie. Hello everyone.


Ci vediamo

I've finally decided to go back home, whatever that is. I though I would be able to relax here and I did, the first weeks and maybe for a month, but not anymore. I'm restless in a way I've never been before and I don't even know what I'm waiting for. Have you ever had that feeling?

I called Tom and told him he doesn't need to come back. I think it makes him more sad than me, he loved to be here but this is not forever. I just need to feel at ease again, and then maybe we can go back. Going home to California is an experiment, I have no idea how it will make me feel, but I have no choice. And I do miss some of the people there, Salvatore more than anyone.

I'll write again when I have settled in, thank you all for reading and caring so much.


Dreams can come true

How are you?

Not much happens here, summer is supposed to end soon but I can't feel it. I'm still alone, and already sick of my own company. I sleep more than usually and dream about Los Angeles and New York, never about things that really happened but always about people I know.

Last night I saw Henry from a distance, he was standing on the beach looking out over the ocean and I knew he was waiting for me. The closer I got the safer I felt untill he turned around. He was looking past me, over my shoulder, and there was Avy. It started to rain, I lost my breath and woke up.

For the first time I want to go back home, but I'm still nowhere near the calm I was looking for when I came here. I don't know what to do anymore.