Infinite love. Like pain. But also a message of hope and courage for those who remain. There is not much to add about the "letter" that the Cagliari-born photographer Fabrizio Varioli wrote in memory of his partner Sara Piano, who died two days ago at just 39 years old: she did not survive heart surgery, the heart she had always done the tantrums. Here's what Varioli writes.

«My Sara was pure joy, vitality, she was the first smile in the morning and the last kiss in the evening before sleeping.

A force of nature, capable of disarming sensitivity and contagious laughter, it was impossible not to have fun with her, it was impossible not to love her, it will be impossible to forget her.

Sara was my world, my air, my happiness, my accomplice in everything, "my most beautiful love", as I reminded her every day.

I admit, we were probably too clingy in front of others, but it was inevitable, we had a very physical way of transmitting affection to each other and we were never able to break away, we lived hand in hand, hugging each other for no reason even while we were at home, even ten times in one evening, every time we met in a corridor or in the bathroom or in the living room, and we stayed glued like that for whole minutes, standing like two idiots.

We were like that, and we liked it, regardless of other people's gazes.

These last few days since her passing, the people close to me have done nothing but tell me that I made her really happy, that she felt safe with me, but no one thought about how happy she made me.

Maybe it was the perfect combination of every aspect in the bond between two people that made us like this, but I believe that the wonder that was created between us was a rare and beautiful thing, like her, and thanks to her.

It was she who made me sigh, after years, as one does with the loves of the first months.

She told me "more", when I told her I loved her, it was her way of saying that our love was stronger than love, it was that extra step of intensity, emotional interpenetration and symbiosis that made us so enthusiastic and took our breath away the breath.

She left me notes around the house to remind me that she loved me, and I left them for her, we communicated like that too.

We wrote to each other every half hour, even if it was just a heart, just a kiss or a racing thought while we worked.

I loved his curiosity, his passionate desire to learn about the world and savor as much as possible from each new experience.

She was initially a little afraid of the motorbike, but she became a perfect "ballast" and learned to love the excursions between the villages of Sardinia, singing into the intercom, to have patience when I saw a glimpse of the mountains to photograph and then achieving our prize, lunches away from home, our passion for good and authentic things.

I loved his delicate sweetness, he was a person of boundless goodness despite having a very strong and at times unshakable character, an unstoppable stubbornness. I loved that too, of course.

And she was funny, she knew how to liven up an evening with friends and she easily entered people's hearts, like a long-time friend.

I am heartbroken, but grateful for the enormous privilege of being able to be by her side.

Sara and I were a couple many years ago, a young couple and perhaps not ready. We have always had great respect and carried on our separate lives and then, exactly 4 years ago, we met again and loved each other instantly. He left us the day after our fourth anniversary, for me May 21st and 22nd will be two conflicting dates but they will always remind me of the 4 best years of my life.

Everything I have said about her is worth 10, 100, 1000 times more, because Sara was born with a "problematic" little heart, she was saved with just a few days of life after an emergency flight to Rome with a delicate operation on the child. Jesus, when medicine did not yet have the possibilities it has today and her little newborn body was fragile.

His heart was operated on again at age 3, and then again at age 10, to correct additional problems.

Her life has always been linked to this condition, but it never took away her smile, strength, enthusiasm and ability to have fun and entertain others, yet what she carried with her was an enormity.

She was lucky enough to be born into a wonderful family, to have two parents, Aldo and Loredana, who made sacrifices that go beyond love to ensure her the best care for many years, two splendid people with an incredible determination, who 'they grew up with the values that everyone recognized in them and which made her a wonderful person.

Two special brothers, Davide and Valentino, with whom she shared everything and whom she loved deeply, reciprocated by their attention.

I was welcomed into this house full of love, one of those of the past where uncles, cousins, friends gather without warning, with an atmosphere of unique humanity and availability.

How she was able to make my parents, my brother and my friends love her, who immersed her in our world as if she had always been with us, with an unparalleled naturalness.

Even at work, in just over a year he won over everyone and helped build a close-knit group full of mutual affection.

Despite her condition, Sara became the mother of Tommaso, her love, her happiness, a splendid little boy, curious like her, a born sportsman, to whom I became deeply fond and who will grow up with the same values of respect and kindness, to whom I wish the happiness with which his mother always told him to live.

He knows it, he repeats it, and he is the one who reminds us all: "mother wanted us all to be happy", he wrote to us again today.

We will be happy in her memory and for her, Tommi, we promised her.

Unfortunately, last year Sara's condition worsened. It was expected, it was hoped that that moment would never come but the intervention became inevitable. She knew she had to face yet another mountain, and even with the fear she even arrived with a smile on the morning of the surgery, when she wanted to say goodbye to us all, take the last cuddles from the family and Tommaso, give me the last, splendid, very strong hug , one of our interminable ones with all the muscles in the body tensed so that the contact was stronger, so that every millimeter of skin touched each other.

I said goodbye to her like this, after this last photo of me with her, and I will never see her again.

Maybe he knew it, because he published his last story, a black page, a heart and the writing "Life is beautiful". It was devastating to only see her afterwards.

Despite the many hours in the operating room in Milan, the great commitment of the surgeons, when it was already night and the hospital was empty and silent, we were given the sad news that his heart, which had struggled in difficulty for 39 years, he no longer had the strength to continue.

I don't know how one can overcome such pain, how one can conceive of living without half of one's life, without the air that filled my lungs, with so many projects to put aside at the same time, with half the bed empty and without the his head on my shoulder on the sofa, without his notes, his messages, his love manifested in everything he did, his joy and his enthusiasm.

I miss him unbearably.

Now I only see an infinite mountain in front of me, I feel my soul crumbling, the strength draining away.

But I promised her that I would be happy for her

I wanted to tell you about Sara in the clearest and most delicate way, but I would also like to give you some advice, without setting myself up as a master of life, but unfortunately aware after this terrible experience: life is one, a breath takes it away from us, sometimes we can predict it, sometimes not, and therefore it must be lived intensely, without wasting time, without letting the days pass in inertia but filling them every day with something beautiful and exciting, without getting carried away by routine.

I have no regrets with Sara, that's exactly how we lived, without wasting time. We had a rule: when you go on a trip you always have to have another booked, and we did so for 4 years. Every week we did something, even if we were tired, even using spare time, but we always had to have new experiences and see new things, we always said "we have to do things", which interspersed "our little trips" that you got used to seeing on our message boards. Every now and then we laughed at our desire to live life with so much strength, and perhaps this is the aspect that united us the most, facing each day hand in hand knowing how precious it was.

Do the same if you can, don't put it off, don't set aside money unnecessarily, don't wait for things to happen, because no one will come to bring you home an experience, a plane ticket, a trip out of town, "things" must be decided and done, sometimes even with an unconscious head turn, without thinking too much, overcoming one's fears and throwing oneself into that frightening and beautiful vortex that is life.

Sara, my most beautiful love, left a note among my things, she knew I would only find it after the surgery:

“If there are other lives after this one, I hope to be lucky enough to meet you in each of them. I love you, yours.”

It broke my heart to think that he had the strength to leave me such a greeting.

I don't know how many tears a human body can produce but mine don't seem to run out.

I don't know if there are other lives after, I'm honest, I believe a lot in the earthly one and I'm happy to have lived mine with her as if there were 1000, but if it were really like that then I hope it's as you say, and that the my after is still with Sara.

I don't know how I will do it, now it seems impossible, if anyone knows how to overcome a pain of this magnitude, tell me, but treasure what I have written, live, because life is beautiful, my love said so to greet us all.

If you like, you can greet her on Monday 27 May, at 4.00 pm, at the Church of Sant'Elia in Cagliari, from where you can see the sea".

(Unioneonline)

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