Last night I could not get to sleep. Too much work, too much to think about the brain can no longer be put off mode and that, despite the constraints and major blows on the switch, stubbornly refuses to die. So I told myself it was probably a good evening for you to say goodbye.
Love stories are so inseparable from my life that end up being my very life. You, for years, you ignore me completely. Nothing surprising about that, you've always cared a fig for those who love you. I admired you from afar and you shone a thousand lights. I finally get close to you, live at your side, never knowing the bottom if you really loved me.
You're noisy and silent. Tonight I went out to see you and you are to me quickly, from the earliest moments of our reunion, appeared distant and reserved. You must surely know that life inexorably me away from you, our steps were more rhythmic and if that soon, I'll go away, far enough not to see you, but enough so that our lives do intersect as often and as intensely as before.
Then I do not want it separates on tiptoe, without speaking, like thieves. I wanted to feel and smell you, give you the opportunity to take me and take me into your belly one last time. It was tender, but that was all.
course, this is a goodbye, because we can not live without each other and you know very well. You shine for others, this evening, however, and if your lights me warm again, they are remote. I am no longer at the heart of your life or yourself in the heart of mine. But for all that you gave me without me taking over, I wanted last night, beating single tone keypad, Paris.
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