"Everyone I know says that afterwards everything is different. More intense." says she, as if thinking out loud.
"Everyone I've seen getting married got married out of the fear of being alone." I say sarcastically.
But the truth is that I am flattered that she can wish to marry me despite all my failures.
And the truth is that I don't want my life to take that route. I don't like that door and I don't feel like passing it. "The paper you sign cannot tell when and how things are changing", I say, "why signing it then?"
"I could marry for the Italian citizenship", I say, "that would be logic. But I have that already."
I don't want anything to happen because it is planned. I'm not sure if I love her (I think it is impossible to be sure), I'm not sure if I can live here with her or if it's good for me and her, I'm not even sure if I will manage to remain alive long enough to give a meaning to what I do. I don't want to stay stuck because I have to, or to transform into formality something which is graciously informal. I don't need witnesses, priests, friends to live my love for me, and the approval of society makes me sick to my stomach. I want to be able to say to my hypothetical son "I didn't married your mom because I didn't need to."
But Libi looks sideway with her beautiful black eyes and says: "it is formal, of course. But it is something you do to say that is good to be there. Like sewing a new dress." (Libi is a dressmaker. I am not convinced.)

-- In picture, above: detail of "sunday women" by John Sloan. I don't know much else of it.