I remember better times, times when I used to imagine a future at your side. Times when a perfect recreation of a fairytail happens in my head everytime I think about you. So long I though those dreams could be real, so I spend hours trying to explain to a paper what I though, what I feel, what was killing me inside. And I failed. I failed everyday since I saw you again. I’m not the kind of person who wants to be whit you all day, or text you all day. I’m not the perfect choice anyone could make. In fact, I’m a dissaster. I’ve failed every single minute of my life, breaking my promise of never think about you. But as always, you came back. You came to bring light to me, to make order inside this chaos, to let me hold you when you’re not strong enough to keep walking. As always I started dreaming, wondering moments, remembering every moment we had, and those we must forgot. And after killing myself uncountable times I swear to my mirror that I never will fall again.
But I must confess, I can’t take you out of me. No matter how much I try, or the days that pass, you always have a place on me, a permanent light I can’t turn off. And I’m scared about it, scared because I can never hold you as I want, never letting you go, an immortal embrace. I have that desire since I smelled your parfume, so hypnothic. And I still can’t understand why the world and destiny makes my way so hard. I must confess that I can’t let you go, I don’t care how much I hate myself for loving someone who doesn’t, I don’t care how long is the road if you are at the end. It’s my platonic problem, the fact that I cannot see you as a friend, or as a women. You’re my queen, so love me or kill me, anyway, I’m dead inside, and I feel so cold and alone to continue serving.