Very often when people ask me how old I am, I jokingly say that I stopped at 24 because it was a great year and I want to extend. And indeed so, I have many wonderful memories of that year and certainly over time I have also mythologized a bit '.
However, like everyone, I've had some bad years, the kind that really can not wait to finish, maybe being in hibernation until next January 1. Looking back though I realize that the years when the worst happens there are also very intense positive moments, moments that we all know and those that make it seem like years beautiful.
For example, the age of 18 years, and the age and the summer when I went to England alone, the first time I made love ... Yet beyond these wonderful things was the year of great financial problems at home, those who have made me afraid of losing their homes and could not go to college, the problems that I have not been able to deal only with eating disorders . O
the year of 25, where I graduated and then moved to Milan to start working. It has been silent, except for a few trusted friends, the moments of devastating year in which I think I cried every day from March to October.
And so I find myself almost to dread the moments particularly beautiful that can happen for fear that something bad as they can obscure.
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