Remember the last time we met. I wore black. You asked me if I was mourning or something. It was my birthday. A warm summer night. As we walked around the plaza, I lit a cigarette as you watched me and exclaimed - "Someone taught you to smoke the right way!". I laughed, while you kept your grin on your face. That is how simple it is for us. I can't imagine how it is going to be without you around. Do you realize we never fight? I have been told that never happens and probably we are not important enough to each other. But I have never felt this strong about anyone else. And it is a relief in the back of my mind. Coming back to you at the end of everyday, everything and almost everytime.
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