Sorry if the english is not so good. This text was written in italian and automatically translated. I hope you get the same feelings as the italian readers
SCENE 1
The afternoon light barely filtered through the closed blinds. A slanted beam illuminated a small portion of the wooden floor, reflecting off the edges of a half-open cardboard box. Inside, clothes were piled up haphazardly: half-folded T-shirts, rolled-up jeans, a few sweaters.
The house was deafeningly silent as Mario and Lara busied themselves retrieving clothes and other items from the closets and drawers.
Mario lifted another pair of shirts from the dresser and placed them in the box without really looking at them. His hands were steady, his movements measured; he tried to remain cold, but inside, he felt an increasingly tight knot. Behind him, Lara was staring at the wall, arms crossed, her long hair cascading down her back like a golden waterfall. Her face was faintly streaked with tears.
The silence was tense, thick with unspoken words.
"Are you taking the photos, too?" she asked softly, without turning around.
Mario sighed quietly. "No, those can stay here if you want. This is our room. The study is small, I wouldn't have much space to put things, and I don't want to take too much."
"As you prefer." Lara's voice was barely a whisper. Then she turned slowly, her green eyes rimmed with exhaustion and sadness. "I never thought we'd get to this point."
He stopped, resting his hands on the edge of the box. He wanted to tell her that he had never thought so either. That they had dreamed of this house together, imagining it as a refuge from the world, away from their families' expectations. Built piece by piece, choosing each piece of furniture, every decoration, just months ago. But now words had become traps: every sentence seemed to hold an implicit accusation or unbearable sadness.
Mario looked at her, trying to hold back something that seemed about to slip away. "Lara, this is just a break. It's what we need, right? Staying here but... giving each other some space. Love, you know we can't go on like this; you're not happy."
She nodded, but tears glistened at the corners of her eyes. "Yes, I know. It's just that..." She took a shaky breath. "I feel like I'm failing twice: with you and with myself."
He stepped forward and, for a moment, took her hand. The touch was familiar and yet strangely distant. Their fingers intertwined. "It's not a failure. Maybe it's just a different way of trying to make things work. I tried everything to make you happy, but right now, it's clear you need something else. You asked me for this."
"I know, I know. It's not something coming from you; it's me. You have no idea how much it destroys me to know that you love me, that I love you, and yet I can't be happy. It hurts, you know? And it also hurts to know that I'm hurting you, but I really don't know what else to do."
Mario was about to say something, but Lara continued, almost agitated.
"I can't think of living without you, of giving you up. But now I know I just need time alone to understand myself, to resolve what I have inside, what I feel."
