Compliments.

It is amazing how underrated compliments are.

My kids bus driver called me "Hollywood" the other day.

Two days ago, at CVS, a woman said she absolutely loved my outfit.

It feels nice to be noticed.

It feels good to be called pretty and smart.

Gorgeous.

Beautiful.

It feels great to be paid attention to.

It feels lovely to be found interesting and relevant.

I forgot what that was like.

I am starting to remember a girl who has been gone for a long time.

A girl whose charisma got a man to open his restaurant in Venice just for her.

A girl who had an impromptu dinner party in Edinburgh thrown in her honor, just because.

A girl who used to walk the streets of Rome with no shortage of public admiration from the locals.

A girl who was so charming she managed to get a marriage proposal from an Argentine after knowing him for a week.

A girl who, after two days, made a Canadian on the Queen Mary II, search desperately, to no avail, for the Captain of the ship so he could marry her right then and there.

A girl who made a man so smitten in San Diego he wanted to get married via civil union after 3 days.

A girl who was found to be so worthy in high school, that boys traveled in the morning from the West Side, to bring her breakfast and flowers on the East side, only to retreat back across the park.

A hot mess who isn't for some, but everything for one.

A girl who took chances, risks, and was authentically herself, to a fault.

A girl who was worthy of pursuit and made a priority.

A girl worth a double take.

A girl observed.

Ciao Cinzia.

Welcome back.

Xoxo,

C.