C'è tutto ciò che mi manca

"What do you really miss? Can you see what you're missing? Can you understand what you have missed, and what you will miss?"

I think about my daughter. I miss her when she's not around, I think about her without me, when one day she'll have to walk alone. I miss "my" being a child, without responsibilities, my childhood. I miss a specific time, an era that I feel is mine, that I know belongs to me, but that I can never experience: the Liberty, the Art Nouveau. I miss being able to see people's true faces; I miss the truth (we talk, we comment, we hide, and no one takes responsibility). I miss the time to stand at a window waiting for the sunrise, to pause and enjoy such beauty. And I missed the freedom... when we were confined at home, and outside the window, the world kept moving without us. And finally, the awareness of what we have, the awareness of nostalgia, in itself an "oxymoron" too. That bittersweet feeling that unsettles us in the present, but makes us smile when thinking about the past; a feeling of hope that drives us to search for or rediscover what made us feel good: a window within the window, an introspective journey where each one can find awareness even behind bars made of flowers.