That morning, she finished the pasta.
The last fusilli.
A strange thing to become emotional about.
Yet she stood there for a moment, holding the empty package, feeling something unexpectedly heavy settling in her chest.
One year ago, one of her clients had sent her a huge package of premium pasta.
More than twenty packs of pasta.
Half of them she immediately gave away. Her family received Italian pasta that Christmas. Friends received pasta. Everyone received pasta.
The rest she kept.
Not because she eats much pasta at home.
She doesn't.
She kept it because it became a strange form of comfort.
A quiet certainty.
A reminder that no matter what happened, there would be food in the cupboard.
She has always found comfort in that idea.
Maybe because she spent years building a life where freedom mattered more than security.
Or maybe because she genuinely likes knowing that she needs very little to be happy.
If everything disappeared tomorrow, she would still be okay.
A roof.
Food.
A notebook.
A dream.
The rest is luxury.
And now, ironically, that she finally has money, she enjoys spending it mostly on experiences.
A train ticket.
A museum.
A dinner with someone she loves.
A city she has never seen before.
She is not much of a consumer.
Quite the opposite.
She keeps trying to escape consumerism in her own strange way.
Buying less.
Living more.
Collecting memories instead of objects.
Yet somehow, one package of pasta became one of her most precious possessions.
And that morning, it was gone.
The last fusilli.
Finished.
And suddenly she remembered where it came from.
She remembered herself one year ago.
And she got emotional.
A few days earlier, Facebook had shown her a memory.
The first meeting after she had completely pivoted her thesis.
One year.
A full year.
Of research.
Of stress.
Of excitement.
Of questioning everything.
Of almost giving up.
And of course, a ridiculous amount of travelling.
She deeply believes that she deserves a special diploma.
Not for graduating from a top master's programme.
But for graduating from a top master's programme while being completely insane across Europe at the same time.
She is seriously considering printing one herself and forcing her girlfriend to organise a formal ceremony.
With speeches.
Maybe flowers.
Definitely wine.
In three days she is leaving for Rome.
A city she never says no to.
She is travelling with a friend who arrived in her life both as a surprise and as a gift.
The kind of friendship that forms without effort.
Without strategy.
Without long explanations.
Just shared moments.
Shared curiosity.
A strange magnetic pull.
The kind that makes you grow simply because the other person exists.
She feels lucky for that.
Very lucky.
Sunday she is having dinner with a colleague.
A designer engineer who already graduated.
Someone she admires.
Someone who will help her understand how ready she is for her final exam.
She loves these meetings.
These adult meetings.
Designer to designer.
Dreamer to dreamer.
Polimi to Polimi.
She takes enormous pride in those moments.
Not because of status.
But because they remind her how far she has come.
She is almost ready for the exam.
Ready for the thesis.
Ready for the business she is building.
Ready for whatever comes next.
Or at least as ready as anyone can be.
And that is enough.
More than enough.
Because the truth is that she is becoming someone she loves.
And not only that.
She is becoming someone she never even imagined she could be.
A younger version of herself would look at her current life and think she was making it up.
Yet here she is.
Touching the sky.
Actually touching it.
The pasta finished.
And suddenly the entire year flashed before her eyes.
Every train.
Every city.
Every moment she wanted to quit.
Every moment she thought she couldn't continue.
Every time she sat on the floor exhausted.
Every time she cried.
Every time she got back up.
And for a moment, standing in her kitchen, she felt overwhelmed by it all.
Grateful.
Proud.
Emotional.
Because she never gave up.
And she never will.
She always returns.
Stronger.
Softer.
Wiser.
Ready for another round.
She has a sensitive heart.
But an iron core.
And when she believes in something, she fights for it with everything she has.
She believed.
And now she is living it.
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