Remembering you

Today, I remembered an ex-girlfriend of mine. Or all of them actually, Thoughtful, I get a little nostalgic and I decided to smile.

Today there may be another guy sharing the bed with you, telling the same jokes I told you and biting your ear. Anyway, I just hope he knows how much you like Lattes, and enjoy the charm that of you holding the cup with those eyes. I also hope he gets a sense of how you don’t like it when they bite you too hard. And of course, let him know how you like to make love nice and slow. I mean, perhaps this part he doesn’t really need to know.

Maybe if I met you again, I’d stay with you even if you’d just gotten out of jail for murder. Not because you are beautiful but because after living a little I praised the qualities you have. Things in life as you know, I do not regret. You told me what was the best for me, and that respect you had for me is certainly one of my biggest reasons to be proud of being yours.

Perhaps I haven’t made you feel special but you have painted a little of my story. I hope you remember me as I remember you, the details, the moments. Do you remember how peculiar I am? I’ve changed a bit, but I’ll admit, I still think some people are from another planet.

I still have all our photos. Not for some special reason, or for a crazy daydream, but because it feels good to remember our stories in a life of such happy times. So, today at the height of my little affection, I tell you: I will never forget you. Even because I have no memory problem. You taught me so much, to be a more smiling and happy man and to enjoy the little pleasures of life. I wanted to have you more, I confess, to have given you more attention. But maybe, this text is a little of what I wanted so much for myself.

Know that my kiss remains sweet, my smile cheeky and my hair pulling as firmly as ever. And as I know you’d like to know: yes, I still sleep naked and occupy half the bed. I still like the cold just to camouflage myself under the covers. I still talk with my hands and I like to stay in bed late every Sunday morning. And, of course, I still look like a kid when I got sick.

I who have always been the poet of my own life, I will always keep you on the shelf of my best deeds. And, at the end of this text, you smile. No fear of me seeing you. Just smile for the simple purpose of knowing that our moments will always be ours. We were a dream that passed, but we will always have happy memories inside our own selves.

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