I want to tell you so many things, I don’t know. I want to know what you think, what goes through that labyrinthine head of yours, what you feel today, if you miss me or not. If you are clear about more things since you left. I want to know what you want from me. Know why you cheated on me, why you made me believe you. I want to hug you and feel that none of this has actually happened. But I also want to yell at you and tell you to leave, that you don’t deserve me, that you don’t come back here if you don’t plan to fight for me. I have many mixed feelings in which a tequierodio escapes from my lips continuously. I want to tell you that I remember you a lot, almost most of the day, that being in my room is seeing you in every corner; sitting at the table by the window smoking a cigarette, lying on my bed right next to me hugging me, standing getting dressed before leaving … I want to ask you if you would come back, if you would ever be able to try it or if you have already decided that All this was nothing more than an illusion, that you let yourself go and you really didn’t feel anything. I do not know. What I do know is that I miss you each and every moment of the day, that I wonder what you will be doing now, and now, and now … If you are happy, if you remember me as often as I It happens to me or if continuing your life has become too easy for you. I don’t know, maybe I’m giving too much spin to everything like I always do. It is simply summed up in this desire to speak to you, to feel you, to have you here, to know that everything remains the same. But no, not today, never again.