"I don't want you to go!" said Elio as he cried heartbrokenly in my arms.
But I didn't say anything; I just hugged him and comforted him while time was running.
After that, we planned a whole day for ourselves only, with no one but each other's company. The day was sunny, just as beautiful as the whole place itself; it made me want to live there forever, it seemed like a paradise. We didn't have such a thing in America.
And time was running out, I was asking myself, “Am I making the right choice?”
I treasured those last hours more than ever, and I began to think reluctantly that I would never see this pretty boy ever again; I would never touch his beautiful lips any more, his white and silky skin, his enchanting black curls. I would never hear him laugh again, nor observe when he is composing music, concentrating on his own world while I distract myself by looking at him from the other side. There was nothing more to do, the decision was made. I was the coward, I admit it; Elio was willing to do anything for what we had. But he has the support he deserves, I, on the other hand, had it difficult. He's still young, he may still regret it.
The worst part was when we had to break apart. The train approached us, and we couldn't say anything. We just stared at each other, I hugged him and I noticed how he wanted to cry. I wanted to cry too, but I tried to lie to myself saying that everything was fine, that this was the right thing to do.
Through the window, I could see how the figure of Elio became smaller and smaller, and my heart did exactly the same.
That last time, I couldn't embrace him passionately, and I did it with sorrow; I wasn't able to kiss him either because we were in public; even more painful because I wanted to try those lips for one last time.
That day, I didn't say "Later", because I knew very well that I would never see him again.
And so, it was when my summer love began, and it ended.