THROUGH HIS WORDS – TO MYSELF

Sometimes, loneliness is louder than any scream.

It doesn’t shout — it breathes beside you.

For long. Quietly. Relentlessly.

Luca had no idea that on the very evening he installed an app to learn foreign languages, somewhere in France a woman named Mia was reviewing the Italian alphabet. He didn’t know she existed — just as she didn’t know about him. They were separated by distance, language, and the complete absence of shared history.

And yet, that night, their silence sounded strangely the same.

Luca lived in a small town in northern Italy, where life moved slowly and predictably. At thirty, he had already achieved quite a lot: he worked as an engineer, kept himself in good shape, and made time for sports. His life looked stable and fulfilling from the outside, yet inside, there was an emptiness that grew more noticeable with each passing day. His parents lived in another city, and his social circle was limited to colleagues and a few old friends. Loneliness had become his quiet companion, and he wasn’t actively seeking change. Still, on quiet evenings, when the silence settled in his home, he felt that something was missing. He didn’t know exactly what it was, but he believed that one day, something or someone would come and fill that space. Not long ago, he decided to start learning French. He couldn’t quite explain why, but deep down he felt drawn to a different world — to something unfamiliar, yet strangely close.

Mia, in a different corner of Europe, was living through similar thoughts. At thirty-five, she was a strong, independent woman. She lived in France and worked for a pharmaceutical company. Her personal life, however, had taken a quieter turn. Divorced and long past the search for new relationships, she focused on herself — on work, on movement. She loved sports, she danced, she spent evenings alone with music or books. Still, beneath all the activity, a familiar silence lingered. A kind of pause that no routine could completely erase. Lately, she had started brushing up on her English and Italian. She couldn’t quite say why — maybe it was curiosity, or maybe it was that same silent longing, the desire to understand a different world, to reach out beyond her own. As if, somewhere out there, hidden in another language, there was something meant for her.

Luca stared at the screen as simple French phrases appeared: greetings, days of the week, colors. It felt strange to start from zero. He had always loved structure — in his work, his workouts, his life. But language didn’t obey logic. It was alive, unpredictable, full of nuance. And strangely, that’s what pulled him in. Each word felt like a quiet step toward something he had been missing. He had chosen a popular app that allowed people to practice languages with native speakers. On his profile, he uploaded a photo — wearing a fitted tank top, framed by a bright summer sky. He knew he looked good, and he didn’t mind if someone noticed. Part of him was genuinely interested in learning the language. The other part… didn’t mind a little flirtation.

At the same moment, Mia sat cross-legged on her apartment floor, her laptop balanced on her knees. Italian verbs spun around in her head — chaotic, messy — and she liked it. Her life had become too quiet, too repetitive. This app seemed like an easy way to practice, nothing more. But deep down, she hoped the words might lead to something greater than grammar. Mia needed English urgently. For work, for meetings, for confidence. But Italian pulled at her in a different way — something more personal, intuitive. She downloaded the app with no real expectations. At first, she simply read other users’ posts and joined a few group chats. She liked watching people speak, make mistakes, and laugh. It felt real — even through a screen. Within a couple of days, a few men messaged her. She wasn’t looking for anything, but the attention felt warm. She replied politely, flirting a little. The conversations were brief — the interest faded on both sides. It was as if the words were just testing whether her heart still responded at all.

That evening, Luca returned home from his run. He loved the feeling when his body was tired, but his mind clear. After a quick dinner, he opened the app and set a goal: fifteen new words. But instead of starting a lesson, he began scrolling through profiles. Mia left her dance class and walked through the early spring streets. The air was still cool, but the city no longer felt asleep. Couples laughed, hugged, and shared headphones. She walked alone — as usual. But tonight, it didn’t weigh on her.

Another evening, another casual scroll through profiles. It had become a quiet habit for Mia — like flipping through pages of a book, never knowing which one might catch her eye. Suddenly, a new face appeared. A young man wearing a tank top, barely dressed. “Really?” She muttered with mild annoyance. Still, he did have a good body. Curiosity won. She tapped on his profile. The rest of the photos were more modest: walking in a park, working out, coffee in hand on some Italian street. His bio said he was open to conversations on any topic. Simple, confident. Nothing exaggerated. Mia read the lines twice, nodded to herself, and closed the profile. She kept scrolling as if nothing had happened. But somehow, his name lingered quietly in the back of her mind.

Luca opened the app just to see who was online. He wasn’t expecting much, but lately, he found himself coming back not just for the language. A notification popped up: “Someone viewed your profile.” He tapped it and saw a name he hadn’t noticed before. Mia. France. Her photo showed a woman looking straight into the camera — calm, confident. No filters, no forced smiles. She seemed… interesting. He didn’t message her. Not yet. He just looked at her profile. English — advanced, Italian — beginner. He smiled, the exact opposite of him. He scrolled through her profile once more. It was simple, and calm — something about it felt easy. Luca hit “Follow,” just like he had with other women before — without thinking too much, almost on autopilot. He even hovered over the message box for a second… but closed the app. That night, he didn’t know that this pause would be the beginning of something.