Dear English language,

You are my friend and my enemy. You are the subject of my concerns. You’ve given me the opportunity to open my mind to new experiences. Yet, I want more from you.

It was a long long time ago, the first time I met you. I was a child and I was introduced to you in the form of a game. "Hi, my name is Lucia," in addition to other simple words and sentences: "apple, orange, sun, rain, I’m happy, I’m sad, I’m thirsty. My hobbies are painting, reading…", etcetera.

Then, the game became more serious. I came to know more about you, and I realised that I liked you. But what I knew wasn’t enough. I was surrounded by people who could communicate with you and have fun. You winked at me, but you weren’t mine. 

I felt a lack, an emptiness to fill. That’s why I followed you here. I wanted to feel part of you, part of your folk. I though that in one year I could do it, and that in that time frame you would fall in love with me.

You let me down, English language. I’ve been here for three years, around twenty thousand kms from my home, my family, my friends and all my attachments. And you still play hard to get. It’s frustrating the way in which for a moment we are a good couple, laughing and flirting each other and the following instant you turn into a stranger.

Sometimes, I still don’t understand you. Words become codes to my ears; codes to which I do not have the keys. I can hear sounds, but they are so vague and incomprehensive that I feel as a deaf and dumb person, without hearing aid.

Sometimes you deceive me, with words that are so similar to my mother tongue that I assume their meaning, until I discover that they have another meaning, if not the opposite.

However, sometimes you rein in your naughtiness, offering similar words in my language, in their look and in their meaning. Thanks for that, I really appreciate it.

But, you know, this occur because you have stolen words from your cousins, the French, Italian, Spanish, and German languages. You are the thief, my dear English language and yet, it’s you the one who is considered the most important, thus the most popular. You have received the power, you have the support of the entire world. Everybody has to know you, if they don’t want to remain isolated.

You are having fun, aren’t you?

Sometimes I hate you, for instance when you talk using abbreviations. I’ve taken a while to understand some of them, some others are yet to discover. Phd, DOF, PNG, BWP, MS. Can you please, please, please talk as a normal person?

To make the things worse, your younger brother, Slang, puts in his contribution to confuse me: chockie, Crissie, bikkie, arvo, rego, cozzie, prezzie, tellie and so on. Do you mind stopping him?

I come across difficulties not only in listening, but also when I talk, in some circumstances. For example, when all the attention is on me. Everybody want to listen to me and understand me. I can see it from their expressions. They are so nice, ready to listen really carefully. And what I do? I become nervous, I can’t speak properly and fluently. I find myself looking into my brain, in the pursuit of a word that I know, I’m sure that I know it, and it’s so easy, but it’s lazy and shy in that moment and it doesn’t want to be seen. Why? Seconds appear as hours. People are still there, waiting. I feel the pressure. I can read on their faces "Yes Lucia, come on Lucia, go ahead! You can do it!" So, I rely on another term, but it is not the appropriate one. It is not what I wanted to say!

Sometimes I’m lucky, they understand me. Sometimes not, indeed I can see their lost expression saying "What?".

Few minutes later, when the lights are not pointing at me anymore, I think about the conversation. Now, my speech is so clear; the right words in their right collocation, as pieces of puzzle finding their partners.

I’m not confident with you, my dear English language, even when we are with Australians who have an Italian background. Especially those who can speak Italian very well. In that case, I feel embarassed and I prefer shelter behind the skirt of my Mother tongue.

However, I can see our progress. Since your wink, we’ve become closer each other. I’ve increased my vocabulary embracing a lot of terms that I own now. I've improved my grammar by going to school and meeting wonderful teachers who have had the patience to bear me. In fact, I've became their nightmare with my thousands of questions and long and twisted sentences in which they got lost as if in labyrinths without an exit. I’m learning since then your simplicity, compared to my Mother tongue, who loves making complex sentences. And this, it has been revealed as an advantage when I have to translate from Italian to your language, because even something complex can be transformed simply and clearly to you. It takes away a lot of stress.

Now, you’ve driven me mad. I followed you to a school, among local people who want to become writers or editors. I don’t know if I will survive, but I haven't given up yet.  And let me say one more thing: I would like to be with you, having you at 100 percent, but if you want to keep something only for you, it’s ok. I’ll be happy with your 99 percent!

With love,

Lucia