“Doc, would you give me a cuddle?”

I am at home. 

I woke up at 6 am, and I woke up Paolo upon his request – he wanted to share our last minutes together, since he was going to head for the city at 7.45 am to visit his daughter. We drank a coffee, smoked a cigarette. It was sad. He was sad. I was sad too, but in a different way. Actually, the whole story with us sharing the balcony and me buying cigarettes for him and giving him money every now and then had become somehow… odd. I don’t find another word. I give all I can give, emotionally and materially, to those who are in difficulty, but I suppose that my being generous to Paolo was misunderstood and taken as an interest of me for him. An emotional involvement, a sexual or at least romantic interest. During the last few days he had taken the habit of kissing my cheek, kissing my arms or my shoulders, and as usual I couldn’t say no. If someone gets intruding or insistent to me, I can’t defend myself. I just drift away in my own world and remain speechless and astonished. His attitude had started disturbing me, because I really don’t want anything from Paolo. A friendship, yes; a relationship, no. 

After Paolo was gone, I met Pete in the smokers’ room. I rarely went to the smokers’ room since I had a balcony, but I wanted to buy a packet of cigarettes so I happened to be there. Pete told me that Paolo is in love with me. Tell me something I don’t know, mate. I replied that between us there is only a good friendship, since I have a boyfriend already (that’s me, the same dirty liar as always) and Paolo knows it and respects it. This kind of intrigues and chit chatting behind people’s back made me feel happy to leave The Castle definitely. Everybody looked with piercing glances at Paolo and me, as if they knew we were together while we never came even close enough to kiss each other. Pete has a relationship with Sylva, a married woman: she has a flat with her husband and a second flat for her "escapades". She went there with Pete last weekend and they had sex. Pete, a good guy, but a poor devil: he can hardly walk, he spits out blood every time he coughs, and I think that for breakfast he drinks beer instead of coffee. Apart from the time he has to be in The Castle, of course; but it is enough if you let him go for a couple of hours, and he comes back roaring drunk. 

I think that for the moment I have more tranquillity at home than I could have had in The Castle. Things were going out of control. Paolo asked me if I could send him a parcel, containing some items he might need. The idea was actually mine, but as soon as I mentioned it he was so enthusiastic that I couldn’t do anything else but promising him I would do it. Today, in the afternoon, I went to town; I had an appointment at the hairdresser’s – which I totally love – and I wanted to buy cigarettes, maybe a deodorant, a shower soap, biscuits, such things. After the hairdresser, though, I was so exhausted that all I wanted was to go back home and be alone. All those people around me on the streets, those voices, babies and children screaming, young people listening to music from their iPhones, the colors of the clothes, of the roads, of the billboards… I just managed to reach a florist, buy three pink roses for my mother, and go back home. I even forgot the newspaper for my father. This speaks volumes about my mental confusion, because I never forget it. The last time I forgot it, he made such a tragedy out of it that I had to put on my shoes again, go to the railway station’s newspaper kiosk, and buy the damn newspaper. Today he didn’t expect me to do so, and I told clearly that I would not even have the strength to do it. 

I will see Doctor Livio next Tuesday. July 23rd. My birthday. I was pondering… I would like to ask him for a gift. A birthday gift. I know that I am unlikely to find the courage to ask for such a gift, but let me just fantasize. I would like to tell him "Doc, would you give me a birthday cuddle?". How ridiculous I would be. Since I saw him taking that skinny little bitch of Jessica in his arms like a loving and caring father, I am obsessed by the thought that I would like to be cuddled in this same way too. Doctor Livio knows about my romantic feelings for him, I put him through very embarrassing discussions already – but oh well, he is my psychiatrist and in therapy I say whatever goes through my mind, how trivial it may be. I never got either rude or coarse. I could never. But oh, how much I would desire that cuddle. Just a small, little cuddle. A three-second-cuddle. 

What do you think, dear OD fellows, should I ask Doctor Livio for this cuddle? 

Take gentle care of yourselves, much love to everyone!