Una Mattina

"The Intouchables" is a great, heart-warming movie that tells the true story of a beautiful friendship.

The film closes with the song "Una Mattina" by Ludovico Einaudi. It's a lovely piano piece. But recently, I realized there's something about that song that makes me listen to it over and over. I'll find myself randomly pulling out my phone in the middle of the day, searching for it on Spotify, and hitting play.

The piece itself is good, but maybe not what you'd call a masterpiece. If you hear it for the first time, you might just think, "Okay, that's nice," and move on. It's not the most amazing piano music in the world or something that immediately gets stuck in your head. So why is it so different for me?

I think it's because those notes don't just carry the music; they carry the entire movie and the good feelings that came with it. Those notes tell a story. Every time the song plays, the final scene of the movie replays in my mind, and I remember how good I felt.

So, maybe the key to making something special is a story, whether it's real or fictional. We see extreme examples of this when ordinary items sell for thousands of dollars at auctions. Winston Churchill's half-smoked cigar (literally trash) was once sold for £12,000.

But what about people? Does hearing someone's life story make them special to us, like that simple piano piece became special to me? Not necessarily.

After all, not every story is special to everyone. Even though Churchill's cigar sold for a fortune, I wouldn't pay a dollar for it. It's not special to me. I think it's the same when you meet someone new. Sure, I'm curious to hear your life story, just like I'm open to watching a new movie, but it doesn't mean it will be special to me. Not yet.

As time goes on and you spend more time with someone, you start creating your own story. You're making your own movie together.

This movie doesn't just have a soundtrack, the music you listen to together. It also has smells, like the scent left on your shirt after a long hug. It has tastes, like your kisses and the food you ate the night of your first kiss. And it has sense of touch, like the feeling when you cafune her.

The scenes of this movie become your memories. That’s the point when everything about that person becomes special. All of your time and experiences together get compressed into these ordinary things: a song, a scent, a taste, a touch.

"Una Mattina" is special to me because it's a sweet capsule of a movie that's one hour and 52 minutes long. But I have other capsules, simple things I own, that hold entire movies stretching for months or years. Unlike "The Intouchables," none of those movies ended well.

And that's why little things are breaking my heart, each in their own unique way.