This is your history. Our history, baby, if it had not been a cocky and stupid girl. And worst of all, I had two chances to be happy with you, and I screwed up both. I remember how fun it was nice talking on the phone, not only because it was "free." Finally, one day in our life would have been more or less well - give it to you, just because dreaming is free, and because he never had drawing cats in your notes (not unless you you asked me.)
Imagine a waterfront apartment on the fifth floor, just because. And a large white bed with many pillows. I like waking up putting efforts to each tab. You like to annoy me with that, I do not know why. Good morning kisses on the forehead make me blush, you know. I cook the delicacies of our world richer for you. I say that I make the best breakfast of life., And I think for a few seconds. "Honey, shut up and eat." Media
morning. We walked like we cotton shoes, or at least I do. Like, sometimes, the way you dress. Our walking was the most colorful because we were you and me. You and me. With a camera, or a guitar. Or riding bike. Eating candy, or me making me whispering sweet and sexy song that you'd have me up in your legs. You love to see my hands and criticize the color of the glaze if you like, stubborn. My smile with you is nice and warm - my pupils, uf, tender. It's the best in the world for you, and the worst thing for me. You make me want to pick up a guitar and celebrate the myriad Ways That I love you. Even more I like my hands now, but I do not think more than you, dammit.
In fact we have many sunsets and Little Night, but not necessary to describe anything, I'm pretty sure you have them as clear as I am. We never had missed music, you know? Yes, I see it as a Zooey Deschanel and Ben Gibbard. Never enough to be a couple of film, but for a short to the New York streets, bars and whores, and things like that.
Pretty, pretty. It's like the fourth time I think of our history, but recently I have pen. You see, I'm in the most remote of locations (a park by my house) in the most unexpected of times (forty-two past nine p.m., Oscarito full sharing), and you probably in the compu doing " nothing ", or perhaps composing, but not watching TV. Or maybe you're with a girl - now that would be interesting, do not you think?
Actually this story was always in you, and the first kiss that we never noticed.
guess not much point writing a vacuum, right? I can not even remember the damn link to your blog.
PS: Last time we left, of adeveritas, I thought three times kiss. Throughout the night, three times, just so you know.
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