Description

Messed-up love stories, family, red flags we don't know how to see, you're bound to recognize yourself... You're welcome.<p> I was 17, it was summer, I was reading Françoise Sagan on a beach in Italy, she was wearing a slit dress and leafing through Vogue while sipping a crema di caffè, it was my first love, it was beautiful... except that when I left her, I became gay, she became a porn actress.</p><p> Complicated.</p><p> Since then I've had a string of disappointments until the final straw – even Larusso, the Moscow Mule and Hemingway couldn't do anything so let's go back to Italy together to try and understand... But don't feel obliged to do porn afterwards.</p>