Euphoria in the Melancholic Sky

It was forbidden for me to be consumed by agony every time my love story failed. When I fell in love, I fell in hard, but when I fell out of love, I fell out just as hard. The thing was, I wasn't going to be a sad, pathetic, and miserable guy. That's why I had never believed in true love, soulmates, or happily ever after. Those were the lamest concepts I had ever heard! I was not some hopeless romantic guy obsessing over grand romantic gestures. And if anyone wanted to bring up some data, there was the thing: there were still plenty of people getting divorced daily.

Divorce shouldn't have existed if people believed in that concept, should it? Happily ever after only happened in movies and cheesy romance novels. People should have known that by then.

But here I was, caught in the whirlwind of emotions, unable to shake off the memories of my time with Zack. It was perplexing and frustrating to find myself constantly thinking about him, considering my usual disdain for dwelling on past relationships. Yet, there was something different about what we had. Despite its short duration of less than a year, our connection surpassed anything I had experienced before.

I used to scoff at notions like true love and soulmates, dismissing them as clichéd and unrealistic. But being with Zack had challenged my skepticism. Suddenly, I found myself grappling with questions and uncertainties that I had previously shrugged off. What if we had tried harder? What if things had turned out differently? The what-ifs haunted me relentlessly.

The magic we shared was undeniable. It was an enchantment that I had never encountered before. Zack had a way of making me feel special, cherished, and understood. He became my greatest teacher in love and relationships, showing me a depth of affection I had never known. His presence lingered within me, casting a shadow over my thoughts and tugging at my heartstrings.

Every little detail of Zack was etched in my mind, as if I had memorized them all. The sound of his laughter echoed in my ears, and the image of his dimples graced my thoughts. Even the way he held his knife or fork seemed eternally imprinted in my memory. And those words he spoke, "You meant a lot to me, Glenn," reverberated in my mind, a bittersweet reminder of the bond we once shared.

Damn it all! I tried to push him out of my thoughts, to move on and forget, but he remained a constant presence. Months had passed, yet Zack still held a firm grip on my heart. It was a battle I couldn't seem to win.

I gulped down the white wine I had ordered at Il Riccio with a ravenous enthusiasm, as if it were the elixir of life itself. In a blink of an eye, it vanished, leaving no evidence of its existence. If Zack had been by my side, I could almost hear his voice scolding me in his usual way, "Glenn, that's not how you savor wine!" Oh, how his disapproving words resonated in my thoughts, reminding me of his absence. As a result, I found myself alone in this breathtaking place, none other than the luxurious island of Capri, nestled within the glamorous Sorrentine Peninsula.

But it was all because of Zack's persistent desire to bring me here that I ended up in this solitude.

Sitting there while gazing at the blue sea and listening to people speaking English, from British accents to American ones, some waiters rapidly speaking in Italian, Zack was smiling in every corner of that restaurant because the only thing about him that I could bring to Italy was the memory of him. You know what, Zack? I knew you would have teased me relentlessly there. You were the only one who could make me blush. And I would have done anything to have that in an instant. I wouldn't have minded, Zack. Tease me as much as you like because I wanted you to be here.