True story
I miss you. It was our story, novel about me and you. You were touching me every day in the morning, every day in the night. I was addict on you, feeling you every single moment on my lips. I was breathing your smell and any time waiting for the next part of our story.
You were my favorite toy, my treasure, my secret. Even if you don’t have soul or spirit you meant so much for me. Yes, our relationships were seasoning and I was trying to forget you every spring and summer, but you were always came back. It was happening for long time, about ten years, until you finally won. Oh, I was crazy about you last year; we were together 24/7 without any excuses. I was crushed on you, couldn’t go anywhere without you.
Finally, I wrote you this note. After two months of our break up I still catch myself every day thinking about you. But I don’t need you anymore.
I live in Bali. It’s not a place for lipstick.
You were my favorite toy, my treasure, my secret. Even if you don’t have soul or spirit you meant so much for me. Yes, our relationships were seasoning and I was trying to forget you every spring and summer, but you were always came back. It was happening for long time, about ten years, until you finally won. Oh, I was crazy about you last year; we were together 24/7 without any excuses. I was crushed on you, couldn’t go anywhere without you.
Finally, I wrote you this note. After two months of our break up I still catch myself every day thinking about you. But I don’t need you anymore.
I live in Bali. It’s not a place for lipstick.