By this river, I stand here, you stand here, we stand here. What is so heavy, sinking down, down, down from every crevice in my life.
Maybe he didn't go to see the patient like an idiot that day, maybe he didn't let Andrea go diving alone that day, maybe... but there are not so many possibilities in the world. The irreversible time, like an irreversible memory, engraved four words on him: fragmented.
Those broken traces, the choice emerged at the same moment. The coffee cup has cracks like tree roots, and several cases have rough ups and downs. Even the beloved teapot, the almost perfect teapot, has been broken and repaired.
God said that if you are prepared to be robbed by robbers in advance, there is no need to be afraid if a thief comes.
But such a sentence is so empty.
It is far less real and moving than the delicate love letter of the ignorant girl.
At least she remembered, that day, what kind of clothes Andrea was wearing, how she smiled, and what kind of music was behind her.
Without embarrassment, she came, and there was a kind of precocious puberty in her innocent face. She said she wanted to see Andrea's room, the one that Andrea had happily described.
However, she was passing by after all, going on a trip with the boy who was waiting quietly downstairs.
Paola looked at her, as if trying to squeeze every fresh message about Andrea out of this little girl. But maybe the girl already has her little boyfriend, but it's no longer Andrea.
He goes to the playground alone, and the noisy teenagers are smiling contentedly. The night wind blew across his neck, and he stood in the swaying iron box, and every time he rose and fell, there was a kind of tugging strength, and he kept squeaking.
He went for a morning run alone, and every step in the sea breeze had the weight of two people. Andrea, where is he?
He went to his son's most frequented video store alone to buy a gift for his son. The owner chose the best music for him, the ByThis River. Everything was so far away and so close, as if the quiet and shy soul of his son was sitting on the unfathomable river bank, facing him.
He couldn't continue his work as a psychiatrist, because of that stupid reason, he couldn't help but sink into self-blame. Unable to extricate himself from the repeated grief, he had to say goodbye to all his patients. Even if he makes them cry, they are angry, they are embarrassed, and they look forward to it. But these are other people's business, from now on you have to face yourself.
The waves swell, and Irene wakes up from her slumber complaining bitterly about her basketball game. Giovanni and Paola watched their only daughter and couldn't help laughing. Andrea's ethereal and candid reality and Irene's frankness, above the boundless ocean blue, gradually converge into a mute song, gradually sinking, gradually sinking, and falling to the dust closest to heaven in the bottom of my heart.
Nanni Moretti "La Stanza del Figlio" ("The Son's Room")
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