The light in the aquarium

La luce dell'acquario
La luce dell’acquario

2 min di lettura

I just think the main issue was that I hated where I was living.

I couldn’t stand the freak woman upstairs, a feeling which was seemingly shared by her husband and son, given the shouted-out answers.

Also, the dog next door was off putting, which barked at each and everything moving beyond his railing.

The rising anxiety when waiting for a shower was far too long; the minuscule windowless bathroom which kept smells and wet locked in, dirtying the towels. Without mentioning the shower bar, hanging on a corner in a way that I couldn’t stand under the waterjet straight, and which needed to be kept low, not to flood the floor.

The remaining space was minimal. My passions, like books, films and music, couldn’t find their own proper place. Stuck and boxed, they were sort of hiding, which gave me cold feet.

But what was missing most was the primary source of life: light. The windows facing North didn’t allow the sun to get through, which meant cold only could pass through the windows. Comfortable in the Summer, dark in the Winter, gloomy all year round.

When I signed off the rental agreement, my focus was on freedom. Living on my own.

That was the most expensive I could afford and I was convinced I would find a solution to the space matter.

I regretted it later, as freedom hit me like a spade does with the ground.

I felt lonely and couldn’t step back, as I had been shouting out to the world that that was exactly what I had always wanted.

In retrospect, I think they must have understood it.

When they gave me a goldfish for that first Christmas in my new flat, I should have realized what it meant. By forcing me to take care of that creature, they gave me a hint I didn’t get.

Pride was part of our family DNA.

I realized it later, during that last moment of awareness. When my eyes still could see, staring at that fish swimming around the led lights of its glass Aquarium, decorated with plants and coloured stones, in a filtered water.

In his loneliness I could see a hook stuck between stones.

I think I whispered when I understood: if they had got it, they would have approved my change of mind. It would have just been one more.

I can’t say how they managed to find me. I remember sitting comfortably on my armchair, in front of the switched off tv. In the shadow of the lowered blinds, lighted by the sole led lights.