the end.

Photo by Adriano Castelli

I’ve been waiting for you at the corner of the restaurant for about two hours. Time and a glass of red wine, sufficient for my mind to wander around our memories, or… my memories about you, who stole my heart since the first moment we met. You, who could create hundreds of colorful balloons… Enough to make me fly up above the sky. And maybe you want to smash it one by one… Now?

Maybe I’m the only person who remembers why today is so special. And I am the only person who is really excited to go to this restaurant, the place where you got down on your knees and said those magic words just like those guys in chick-flick and cheesy romance movies.

Sunset has greeted me but I still don’t know where you are. Do I have to slice open my veins to make you look back at me?

But you know I’m too weak to do that.

Good bye.

I don’t need this wine anymore. You may lick it, suck it, or do anything with it when you’re arrived, and that too if you remember to come to this restaurant in the first place.


2 thoughts on “the end.

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