Eat, Pray, Love

Out on the street after my delirious hours of lingerie shopping, I remembered this line and
repeated it to myself in a whisper: “Per chi?”
For whom, Liz? For whom all this decadent sexiness? Nobody’s there. I had only a few
weeks left in Italy and absolutely no intention of knocking boots with anyone. Or did I? Had I
finally been affected by the word on the streets in Rome? Was this some final effort to be-
come Italian? Was this a gift to myself, or was it a gift for some as yet not even imagined lov-
er? Was this an attempt to start healing my libido after the sexual self-confidence disaster of
my last relationship?
I asked myself, “You gonna bring all this stuff to India?”
Eat, Pray, Love