I’m not sure if it was the garden placed perfectly amongst the dim light or the faint buzz of music rejoicing in the serendipity of young Italian twenty-somethings laughing amongst one another. Gli amici, or friends, as they say in Rome. But I knew at that moment when I stepped into the libreria for the first time in the magical city of Rome that I would never be the same.
After days of sightseeing, self-discovery journeys and metro trips, we’d come together to rejoice in each other’s company. We’d spend our nights at the libreria drinking our ice-cold Aperol spritz drinks and reconvening after long days of being young college students studying abroad in Rome. To me, it was more than just the place, it was the people I met that made all the difference. They’d encourage me to raise my standards for how I deserved to be treated as I stood there in disbelief that I’d found such a kind and fun group of people. They’d remind me that I deserved to be loved. I now keep their love and affirmations in an invisible locket close to my heart. They’d remind me to believe in myself and all that I could do. We’d share tears and laughter, but beyond that, we shared a love of pasta carbonara and running free in Rome.
Daily updates would consume us as our bond grew strong. The time we held like treasure, our conversations glimmering gold. We were a group of about seven. We shared our lives with one another: our emotions, our longings, our hopes, and our dreams. The libreria was more than just a place for us. It became a home, a reason, a motivation, and an integral part of our life. It impacted everything we did, the people we met and the choices we made.
Minutes turned into hours. The libreria would close, but we would never leave on time. We celebrated birthdays, danced at the little bar, and wreaked havoc in the best way possible. We’d go on the rooftop to see the stars through a telescope when it was out. Or we’d simply just be. Whatever questionable choices we made in Rome throughout the day, our decision to meet at the end of the night at our favorite spot was always a good one.
Rome, with endless cafes filled with mountains of croissants, prosciutto, cheese sandwiches and gelato on every corner. Rome, with friendly bartenders greeting you as you make your way around the city with an Aperol spritz in one hand and a yearning for adventure in the other. We’d dream and hurt. We’d love. We’d learn; it’s all that came with being young college students doing our best to have fun in the most beautiful city in the world.