When I was a little girl, I wanted to have green eyes. I'd crawl into bed and snuggle close to my mommy in the coldest days of winter, piling blankets over and around me to warm up my little toes. I'd close the big and round muddy orbs shut and dreamt of a tomorrow where I'd wake up the emerald-eyed-raven-haired doll of my town.
When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a pianist. I wanted my little fingers to grow out long and slim, and become flexible. I knew I would be happy if I was remembered like Beethoven or Bach or even Vivaldi. Debussy, lulling me to sleep, whispered the waves of La Mer into my tiny ears and saw me next to him at one of his famous concerts in present day New York. I wanted to bring the happiness to the the audience that I experienced every time I closed my eyes and swayed to Fur Elise.
When I was a little girl, I wanted to marry a violinist. I wanted to hear Javier Navarette's Lullaby every night and fall in love at an Andre Rieu concert in Roma or Firenze. I wanted to travel across the Italian countryside with my Italian violinist husband and tour the old cities of Europe on our eternal honeymoon. I wanted to sit front row at all of his concerts and grin and blush when he announced, "la bella donna en prima riga e mi amore" with eyes burning bright.
When I was a little girl, I wanted to go to the Opera. I wanted to model the matching set of underwear and bra, because it looked so pretty on the model exhibiting it in the magazine, it must look that good on me when I was a big girl, too. I wanted to wear a long, black dress that had tiny straps in the front and crossed in the back and showed off the creamy contours of my body conservatively. I wanted to but on the matching heels that would give me the last femme fatale touch, and delicately hold the silky onyx shawl over my shoulders when the Autumn night got too chilly. I wanted to pull my hip-length hair into intricate curls of a fancy hairstyle done only for special occasions and have little faux diamonds placed precisely where they would sparkle and complement the blackness of the loose tendrils here and there. I wanted to wear smokey make-up and dark red lipstick, the one that gave me the air of sophistication I wanted. The one that complemented the green eyes. I wanted a simple ruby with a silver band, matching necklace and earrings. I wanted to be entranced by Pavarotti's lovely harrmony. I wanted to swoon at Andrea Bocelli's every sigh. I wanted to smile up at the man next to me and give him a kiss once Vivo Per Lei reached a crescendo. Now that I'm not a little girl anymore, I don't know what I want.
