Little Miracles Page #2

and my awareness of being aware of you

is like a prayer

and knowing that you smile

is like a wilted flower on my chest.

May I borrow this book?

I'll bring it back.

Of course. I'm happy

that you are beginning to like Pessoa.

Mom... It's me Rosalia...

Please, call me.

Are you there... mom?

I want you to come over for dinner.

If you don't like my cooking,

we can order a pizza. But call me.

It's not true. It can't be true.

They were just two coincidences.

I know I have to thank God for this gift

of being a fairy.

But I'm afraid, because I wonder...

Will I be able to fall in love

and have children?

Do you know anything about fairies?

Until last year, our solar system

was thought to be an exception.

We were alone in the universe.

But in 1996,

eight other planetary systems

were discovered.

Frankly, did you ever feel alone?

You shouldn't have.

It is less and less likely

that we are alone.

Just in our galaxy,

there are 500 billion stars.

Can you imagine?

Don't worry.

Me, neither.

Do you know what keeps me awake at night?

Sometimes, I am certain

that the signals are there

but we don't see them as we should.

- Who is it?

- Rosalia...

I don't have a philosophy;

I have feelings.

If I speak about Nature,

it's because I love it.

And those who love never know

what they love, or what love is.

To love is eternal innocence,

and the only innocence,

not to think.

I'd like you to hear

something that I wrote.

In fact, I just adapted a text by Pessoa

to music by Marcello.

You will remember it, song,

to love at an early hour,

one night with closed eyes,

your voice, your voice.

It breaks my heart.

For although you cry,

you sing by my side

and I am all alone.

Can you see me?

See you?

I don't know.

Suddenly, I thought of a miracle.

Come closer.

Don't be afraid.

I want to make a confession.

As I couldn't see you and you

wouldn't dare tell me what you are like,

a love has grown

inside me

so great and immeasurable

that it hurts.

If you don't know what I'm like,

how can you love me?

You don't even know the color of my hair,

or how tall I am.

With no definite shapes...

with no limits...

and without waiting for any reward

this love has been growing

with no boundaries

and it has become a red-hot ember

inside of me...

and it hurts...

This love

has become the only love.

Do you understand?

And this is a love

that only Christ could have felt.

I am only a poor man

who exaggerates his shadows.

Why is God so good to me, Rosalia?

Good?

If I were able to see,

I'd be distracted by shapes

and colors.

Things would be only one way,

the way I'd see them.

But like this,

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