Tell me about when we met by chance, by smiling, by predisposition.
Tell me about when we met by embrace, by listening, by a willingness to learn.
Tell me about the humility that made us all similar and ready to confront each other, about the need to seek each other out, to understand each other, to grow together.
Tell me about the time when everyone knew one thing at a time and was always willing to learn something new from the others.
Tell me about the hope that was the first to be born.
Tell me about the times when it was not meant to be.
But tell me also of the pride that divided us, of the abuses experienced and fought over, of the victories suffered but ardently sought.
Of how cunning and arrogance were not virtues, of the wickedness that always acknowledged and often ruled, but united the just, the good and the honest.
You tell me.
That perhaps, absent-mindedly, between the sharp, metallic hum of a video on my mobile phone and the yellow reflection of an emoticon in my pupil, for a few seconds, I will listen to you.
Before I forget what I asked you to tell.