"and think that this season is also a birthday gift"
"to a worthy birthday present I should at least give you a little 'chills'
" I received your message in this city by night' else in the world. I would say - only this time - I'll try to be content "
these days I seem to do other than wait for someone to come back.
but it is not sad or worried and waiting often do not even know who it is that I'm waiting.
but back a bit 'all.
those from the distant past, people from these imperfect.
that sometimes become conditional remote sometimes become impossible future.
are here, make my life and occasionally lifting a bit 'of wind and the smell brings me to some of you.
yesterday, it was you.
today is your birthday.
me you fell in six years ago.
me you fell in with unimaginable depths.
not seen you since then.
yet you're still there, firmly in place, clinging to a place sometimes hidden, sometimes hit in full sun in the corner from me which I have tried many times to unsubscribe.
I hated.
at times despised.
I thought I love you.
I want.
I was in love with the idea of \u200b\u200byou.
there have been times when I did not understand anything about you.
there have been occasions when you wished you were there or be I did not.
we never found in these six years.
but you never really went away.
perhaps because you never really started.
me you're just fell into it.
perhaps because when you do that you knew where you were and I did not.
perhaps because I have always had this impression that, for once in my life, my life when I'm that bright and the others go on trial and error, between us and you the one who always knows what's going on and I but I do not understand anything.
because you just enough to understand, very little, and while I have need of all these words, many words, too many words and, even when you've got desire and patience to beat me, I actually have not been able to use them.
and still can not listen to some songs without thinking of you and not hear something that shakes my stomach.
enough and still very little, a couple of messages, a few words thrown in, perhaps today, as then, without intention, just because you like to play, to make me spend a whole day thinking about you.
to you that you fell into me but in reality I've been on enough to know what our lines, my always direct, always your curves, could match.
to you that you could CONUN sms to let me pass entire days in Paris while I was worrying about how you were.
you who asked me "when you get back?".
you today, I asked him "when you get back?".
but perhaps once again is not the right time.
with you does not seem to be never the right time.
there is no song that represents us better than any time Fossati.
between us seems that there is always time.
but there never really.
we are not there ever since.
sometimes I feel that we need to be far, far more than usual, far-flung nations, continents, to feel closer.
sometimes I think we need to know that there is a space that separates us, saving us from "do not want it enough."
because in this we are equal, the more alike than I ever thought.
because we both need someone who wants so much, who wants to both of us, burn it, it moves.
time, as you told me a year ago, I should not have to do is get you.
and perhaps did not know how, but maybe I did not want to do.
maybe all your charm was precisely the absence of risk could damage for a month while you were away and when you come back telling me that it was already passed.
the night I could die listening to songs and then suddenly trip just to see you and know that all this was just another romantic masturbation.
us this for six years, a fantasy to get the blowjobs.
a poetic imagination, a beautiful and intense.
and plunged into the depths.
but a fantasy.
when you get back?
