This is not a post optimized for Google.
If that’s what you’re looking for, keep scrolling.
Happy birthday, my friend.
Happy 40th.
I still can’t believe I’m writing this.
Just a few weeks ago, we were thinking about your birthday.
And now, you’re not here anymore to celebrate it with us.
It makes no sense.
You were my partner in crime here in London.
My emergency contact.
My person.
Every piece of advice you ever gave me, I kept it close.
Because you taught me as an adult what a friend really is.
I just hope you knew how big is the void you’d leave.
If life separates us, memory survives.
Like these pictures
And yet I don’t even know what I’ll miss more
a shoulder I could always count on…
or your way of being my partner in crime in all my messes and in all the craziness without ever making me feel judged.
Thank you.
Thank you for all the times you took the time and the love
to help me gather all my broken pieces.
I will never forget that.
And maybe I’ll miss this too:
The way you were the only one who still called me Serenity
the alias I’ve had since high school.
Every time we were in the street and you shouted “Serenity!”
you’d laugh at how I instantly turned around
while “Stefania” barely got a reaction from me.
You always said,
“How is this possible?!”
And then you’d start laughing and shaking your head like it was the first time.
I know I’m not allowed to say these things to you anymore.
You were there when Alex one day disappeared and he gave up on me
because his ex-girlfriend suddenly reappeared and she chose her because, as he said, ‘she had a better wallet than me.’
And you were there. But the best part is how we process together what he said…
That ridiculous sentence that somehow became our life philosophy:
“Stefania, you have to understand… what was true yesterday doesn’t mean it’s still true today.”
You knew I was about to move in with him.
And you also knew how I got broken.
And now, today, that sentence is ringing even louder, because it’s soooo true again.
What was true yesterday is no longer true today.
Because today, I have to find a way to celebrate you without you.
I still can’t believe you are not here for your 40th.
I still have a few years for mine, but I will celebrate mine for you as well.
After Easter, when I came back, I kept imagining our reunion.
I knew exactly what you would say the moment you saw me.
You’d look at my hair, tilt your head slightly, and go:
“Steeeeeeeee, what have you done? I’ve never seen you with hair this short!”
And I’d reply:
“You do realize that, for most people, this still counts as long hair… right?”
You never approved when I wanted to chop it short…shoulder-length or more.
And even when I forgot for months to go to the hairdresser and my hair grew wild,
you loved it that way.
You used to tell me how beautiful it was, and taking inspiration for yours
I remember every time I was coming back from Italy, and I had found one of the hairdressers who refused to cut it saying “for cutting so much your hair, you need to find another one, I am not gonna do it”
And you? You were so happy, approving their choice.
You thought they were right.
I had pictured us laughing about it again.
I had pictured your comment.
But that moment never came.
Because I never got to see you again….alive.
You never liked being in the spotlight.
But today, I’ll break that rule.
Today, I’ll share your face, because it deserves to be seen.
Because your presence shaped my life.
This time, I won’t be the one in the frame.
This time, it’s your light I want the world to see.
You are not just in my heart.
You are in these photos.
In every laugh we shared.
In every memory I’ll carry forward.
Forever my partner in crime.
Forever my Serenity-whisperer.
Forever my friend.
