Summer night

  This is my first attempt to write in english after so much time, so, please, forgive me my mistakes.
  It was really weird, tonight, but, at same time, full of meaning.
  She went to the bathroom. I was waiting for her, sitting in a white chair. While all those people where passing by, some alones, couples of, who's to know, lovely partners. Then, suddenly, a tought came to my mind.
  Yes. I was sitting there, hands in my chin, twenty years-old over my back, and I had just figured it out.
  Honestly, I did never expected to be such a person, that I am now. About one year ago I felt like all my wills where futile, all my dreams where gone, that I had nothing left to beconquered that worth the efforts.
  It's funny how those thinks happens, how we slightly change over time, like an infinitesimal sum that comes up with a very solid think, even though I am more likely a liquid or a gas.
  At that time I was a boy, not in my body, but in my soul. No real worries, no real problems. My mind passed over hard times, coming and going, getting hot and impatient in a minute, cold and distant in another and even warm and equilibrated, sometimes.That season madness and my infant worries - that's the way I would classify then right now, but, maybe, I will do so to this in a few years too - led me to hurt people, to undermine myself.
  Made me afraid of failure - thus, of trying new thinks.
  Let me stuck in a comfort zone that, ironically, was killing me by inside. But sitting in that chair, by apparent no reason, I did realized that I have changed. That I did turned into someone t hat I tought I coudn't. In fact, got worried and also happy. Honestly - between us - a little bit proud. Not by myself, but for my parents. Hope you will understand.
 And this will come out as a confusing phrase, perhaps of misleading significance, and I am afraid that it may look, even if I grant you that wasn't my intention, somehow oppressive. But what would be of literature if every writer had let his fears overcome his toughts, put chains into his pen, sticht his eyes and mouth. So here it is: I felt, for the very first time in my life, as a man - whatever that means in a historical perspective and, surely, in that sense, not a phrase exclusive for the male of our species.
  That sounds weird even now and, a little earlier than I supposed, I would say that it's infant. But, in any case, it was a great mark in my mind and heart, like a glass showing the face of a man that stayed several years without knowing what his figure looked like, and came to know it suddenly, and it was somehow beautiful and unique, specially considering his defects .
  She than came out, and we went off to the car. Left me home, barely knowing that all the changes that I had passed where caused by her, directly or not. Even if someday she get bored of me, I am quite sure that she left her mark very deep in my life and, so far, a grateful mark, like a three tiny sweet star tattoo.