With a glass of wine

Spring in New York is topped only by summer in bella Toscana. Sunshine, a light breeze, 70 degrees and Tom by my side as we drive through the flowing landscape. Everything is calm and quiet, we seem to be so far away from life and the ordinary everyday that I never want to go back. The only thing I really miss is Avy.

We spent last night in small town called Montalcino, on the top of a mountain with olive trees growing on the hillsides. Looking out into the darkness from a balcony we finally started dancing around the subject of religion and beliefs. He wanted to know something more about my background and I told him about my Catholic family, Sundays in church and the ancient traditions I grew up with. He was silent for what felt like an eternity before he said - in that straight forward way of his - that he's always been an atheist and that the only fairytale he believes in is life itself.

Maybe I should have taken it as an insult to my past, but they way he said it made me feel as if it was nothing but an huge relief. I know I can talk to him and I know that he listens, and maybe he can help me through these doubts I've been having for so long now.