Love,
obviously I cannot write you anymore. The episode is over, we have all been supposed to move on. At times, however, I stop for a second the crazy ways of the rollercoster i am on and feel back.
Ahh. What a sweet, sweet love you was. You filled me from my toes to my hair, you was the subject matter of so many many minutes, hours, days, weeks and yes, months.
Damn. It hurts too much. I can't even pretend to write artificial love letters. Ah, it sucks. I wanted you so badly and I can't tell you that I still think of you, each freakin single time I run into the opportunity to make out with a guy. EACH TIME.
ah.
wasted empty minutes. empty sad longings i felt. what, for heavens sake, is the value of a precious stone that you preserved when nobody is ever going to see it? if it is buried deep inside my heart? what are you worth love? not making love to him because it wasn't appropriate t your feelings? would have hurt you too much? you wanted it this time all and not only 50%? AND WHO SAID that this one time making love would have been worth only 50%? ha? who? what? i wanna know whether or not it was worth something not to hurt you, my heart. was it worth it? was it worth this neverending pressure sneaking into you and making you heavy as concrete, ha, heart? was it worth that?
I just caught myself googeling stuff up about Zimbabwe. I can't believe it. I am not supposed to look back, neither are you my heart. Stop that now, stop it......
and don't you look even further. Pedro is gone, he is going his own way now. There is nothing you can do. He sold his soul to the devil, it is none of your business anyjmore.
don't
you
look
back
heart
don't
you
do
that
don't
just
d
o
n
'
t
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