What the hell was I doing? What the hell was I jumped in head? I was going to be her true. To say what? What I would have invented?
I was sweating, sweating hard. The shaggy hair, beard left her there for a week. The clothes wrinkled, tired skin, dark circles. Here's how I stood before her. In the deepest of my meanness. In my ability to be a miserable desperate for a bit of dignity. Yet she would have arrived full of hopes. Besides, she had tried to have me back, telling me to want to still be with me. I felt on the smell of the prostitute. I came to her a bit 'below the lowest point I had ever touched.
parked far away from his house. It was one o'clock at night. I wanted the fresh air ripulisse me of my torment. I stopped at a fountain to cool off a bit '. What do I have to say? I wanted, I wanted it strongly. Just thought it was right not to bow down like that. Allow him to do with me what he wanted. He could not leave and return as if nothing had ever happened between us. As if my feelings, because it seems strange to the female, but men have them, were not important in this strange story.
I saw her from afar, I waited in front of the beach where we had gone swimming at night. She was still very beautiful. Fresh, clear, light. It was her. And she always strongly. If possible even more beautiful. She was white. Sweet. It was exactly as I had dreamed all this time away from me. But I could not forget that I had lied. It was wrong with me. And confidence is everything between two people. Her beauty could not compensate for this situation.
I walked behind him. He was motionless. He stared at the sea. I hummed songs in my head. I was restless. I was even more schizophrenic than before.
The fresh air had turned away from the smell of my clothes whore. I sat next to her
"So ..."
"So what?"
"So what you tell me what it means to your mail?"
I was sweating, sweating hard. The shaggy hair, beard left her there for a week. The clothes wrinkled, tired skin, dark circles. Here's how I stood before her. In the deepest of my meanness. In my ability to be a miserable desperate for a bit of dignity. Yet she would have arrived full of hopes. Besides, she had tried to have me back, telling me to want to still be with me. I felt on the smell of the prostitute. I came to her a bit 'below the lowest point I had ever touched.
parked far away from his house. It was one o'clock at night. I wanted the fresh air ripulisse me of my torment. I stopped at a fountain to cool off a bit '. What do I have to say? I wanted, I wanted it strongly. Just thought it was right not to bow down like that. Allow him to do with me what he wanted. He could not leave and return as if nothing had ever happened between us. As if my feelings, because it seems strange to the female, but men have them, were not important in this strange story.
I saw her from afar, I waited in front of the beach where we had gone swimming at night. She was still very beautiful. Fresh, clear, light. It was her. And she always strongly. If possible even more beautiful. She was white. Sweet. It was exactly as I had dreamed all this time away from me. But I could not forget that I had lied. It was wrong with me. And confidence is everything between two people. Her beauty could not compensate for this situation.
I walked behind him. He was motionless. He stared at the sea. I hummed songs in my head. I was restless. I was even more schizophrenic than before.
The fresh air had turned away from the smell of my clothes whore. I sat next to her
"So ..."
"So what?"
"So what you tell me what it means to your mail?"
"What it says did you see? Or do you want me to repeat it? "
The tension was cut into slices on the beach. I need to understand something, I needed to be as light as I was before. I tried her hand. She escaped me. We do not understand anything. She tried, she escaped. We were shown into a booming anything sharp and deep. You could not go on like this. I got up. The first instinct was to throw me to the sea, return to him to discover the truth and go somewhere else.
"Where are you going?"
"I do not know, do not you say. I had to move but "
" ... "
" I do not know, do not know why I'm here. I do not want 'to find out. I wanted to be here. I was terrible in those days. What would I respond when you told me you were going to get married somewhere else? I asked you where you wished it would have made the wedding list? "
" ... "
" Then you get back. God knows why. What he has to find another country? And then there's the wheel? Show me what's going on in his head. "
" ... "
" ... "The
my schizophrenia was leveling up. At very high levels. In moments of silence came to my mind a lot of songs. A flood of music was inside me.
"Monica fuck, tell me something," He got up just
. He gave me a kiss on the cheek.
"Sleep with me tonight, tomorrow we'll talk about"
Here is the song that was to come at this time "In your bed is the latest to tear the soul." Sleep with her? In those conditions where I was? That was not a thing to do. Not at all, just said yes. Instinctively, without thinking too much.
So we set off on foot towards his home. In the morning following definitely something between us would be reborn. Without too much trouble. I was sure.
We went to bed. We fell immediately into a sleep devastating. We were both very tired.
The next morning we woke up completely naked.
The tension was cut into slices on the beach. I need to understand something, I needed to be as light as I was before. I tried her hand. She escaped me. We do not understand anything. She tried, she escaped. We were shown into a booming anything sharp and deep. You could not go on like this. I got up. The first instinct was to throw me to the sea, return to him to discover the truth and go somewhere else.
"Where are you going?"
"I do not know, do not you say. I had to move but "
" ... "
" I do not know, do not know why I'm here. I do not want 'to find out. I wanted to be here. I was terrible in those days. What would I respond when you told me you were going to get married somewhere else? I asked you where you wished it would have made the wedding list? "
" ... "
" Then you get back. God knows why. What he has to find another country? And then there's the wheel? Show me what's going on in his head. "
" ... "
" ... "The
my schizophrenia was leveling up. At very high levels. In moments of silence came to my mind a lot of songs. A flood of music was inside me.
"Monica fuck, tell me something," He got up just
. He gave me a kiss on the cheek.
"Sleep with me tonight, tomorrow we'll talk about"
Here is the song that was to come at this time "In your bed is the latest to tear the soul." Sleep with her? In those conditions where I was? That was not a thing to do. Not at all, just said yes. Instinctively, without thinking too much.
So we set off on foot towards his home. In the morning following definitely something between us would be reborn. Without too much trouble. I was sure.
We went to bed. We fell immediately into a sleep devastating. We were both very tired.
The next morning we woke up completely naked.
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