Last day of carnival, or "all the pain money can buy"

February ends today, and I can tell you, this day has been one of those days that no matter how you see them, they will still surprise you.
Perhaps it's just the carnival-effect of february, probably spanned to all the days of this strange month, not just to the usual week!

While the morning didn't bring interesting news, but for some Linux tinkering (some things never change), the afternoon was amazing.
A quick text to Инна led at 14:30 led me to a great rush to catch a train to Rome, for she accepted to go together to listen to "The Creation" by Haydn, a concert given for the 700th year of Rome's university "La Sapienza".
My rush ended up in a train leaving in front of my eyes, in a little quarrelling at the ticket office, and in another huge rush in Rome from the train station to the university; *that* was some running... ;-)
We met, and found a way into the hall, and I already was lost in her fantastic eyes; I mean it, I just couldn't stop looking at her, and the more I did it, every little detail of her was just looking better and better, until she finally become oh so much wonderful... my words, they've left me, and I lost them... that was too much for us both.
I may have resisted her a little, despite her grace and beauty and dark and deep eyes and her caressing voice, and thought for a second that I had at least an advantage on her when she as much as dared to make a phone call during the concert!
But that just led to ignominous metaphorical tumbling to her feet when I realized that the only thing she was concerned with during that exquisite and compelling music was to share that with her very distant mom, so she phoned her to make her feel neared.
I was ready to be executed.
And was almost going to whisper in her ear asking solemnly "Why do you do such wonderful things with such incredible ingenuity and ease?".
My voice would've betrayed me too much, and her ear on my nose, when I had already whispered to her during the concert, it was too much of a temptation.
I didn't say that.

Later she left, despite my warnings that she was going to break my heart and leave with an entire piece of it, and that not even the wonderful music was enough of a medicine for it, but she left.
I stood silent, and angry, and then wondered about this strange question while staying alone: "How many times a day can a man die?".
And then I rushed after her (it was rushing day, it seems), and catched her already outside of the building, and looked at her and said something stupid like "Creation has ended, Adam and Eve will come in act three, and love will be born"; well, the opera really is like that...
I also added, "It's cold outside, come inside where it's warm. Do not go away."

She left nevertheless.
I knew for sure that one can die several times a day.

I went back home, had a quick dinner out near the train station, and then drove home, and lo and behold!, snow was falling on my Latina, for the 3rd time in my life...
This febrary has truly performed magic till it's very last breath... I can only wonder what it's got in story for its next incarnation.

We have been warned.
And I feel lonely.
Yet, not desperately sad.
Goodbye Mr. February, I owe you a lot.