He spelled to herself which meant the end of the relationship; "you're my big mistake".
Direct, bluntly and without doors open to a reunion, that in the future you crave with all your soul. Hopes of a possible return, created by despair and loneliness overhanging the.
Any distraction could remove it completely, among all the special moments, his fickle mind, chose to remember it from the back, with the hair, gently waving.
You could smell that essence Lavender which used to detach and so bewitched him, without knowing why, because the House was often ventilated. Surely your brain recreated a close environment, family. Curious word, origin of storms. Precisely the family was what would not by its refusal to have a child. I didn't want to make mistakes, It had nevertheless become one.
Soaked to the bone, saw his ghost, naked, on the other side of the bed, always on his back. Only when he tried to pet it, faded in the air, and traveling invisibly in the room. When got it to lose sight of, seductive Lavender intoxicated him up through the nostrils to the brain. There he clung to the memory firmly.
What a day were words of love, resulted in unintelligible whispers, sometimes looking for reconciliation, others showing rejection. Obsessed with that flowing mane, He was unable to throw it to the corner of oblivion, al menos sin intentar ver de nuevo sus ojos canela. Las semanas fueron consumidas sin piedad por el tiempo. While, He lived between murmurs and silhouettes, They consoled him u tormenting pleasure, incessantly.
Never again saw his face while he resided in his mind, Perhaps because he shunned it unconsciously, o quizá porque era “un gran error” incluso para su propia ilusión.