The Route, the Pencil and the paper

Natural Force

We were simple until we started to feel. You with your work and I with my juggling. You with your things and I with mine. Some beers, good weather, summer nights in that park, your laugh and energy.  We get distracted listening to the parallel world of the other.

Despite the fact that we searched for each other on Tinder and at first we were just sex, we ended up being something else. Another thing we didn't talk about, another thing we didn't want to talk about.

You told me your things while I rolled the joint, we always chose the same bank.  We never asked ourselves but we were going to sit under a big old tree. 

Sometimes I was dirty, very dirty, but you liked it, you knew that I spent the day on the street and that without a moment of rest I preferred to go with you rather than to the hotel.

I also remember those nights when I didn't come back and the receptionist asked me why I was paying for. Those nights at your house, that we went secretly because your roommates didn't like me. I remember your bed and I remember you lying down, naked and kissing me. 

We knew it was not eternal, I would not stay, I had not stayed anywhere. I like to think that we met in the summer and said goodbye in the fall.

Autumn lasts a season, just as leaves fall in the wind, so do we. We fell from the tree of friendship because of love and we went to nothing, because we could not.  We could not accept that we were nothing and that what we felt must be temporary. Or maybe it shouldn't, but that's the way it would be, that's the way it always was.

This last beer, this last cigarette and I'm going to sleep. I promise myself, it will no longer let your thoughts come at night.

From afar and from my heart I send you a hug.  Of those that we gave each other and in the ear I would like to be able to say to you in the same way that I told my mother before I left my house "sorry."