That day comes very usually, beforehand what I do not have any uneasiness unexpectedly is bodeful. The color that is that dusk only too too thick stiff, let person opens depressed not to open his eyes, I call to his Internet bar, his friend says he is absent, I drop a telephone call, a palpitate. He left my life so, seem to ever had not come.
In darkness, I look at him to stay in my domiciliary dress, tender feelings pays the myriad the heart to be carried at pointing to, feeling him to once stuck has worn dress, I say to what air mutters, I think you really. I do not know whether has he loved me really, but his odour is all the time beside my, in my bosom, in my volition. Or he loves me, or actually I also do not know, perhaps I just am being imagined one day, he plays outside tired, got hurt, beside still can return me.