Crónica de un final anunciado

Sometimes I find myself sitting back and reminiscing, especially when I have to watch other people kissing. And I remember when you started calling me your Mrs. All the play fighting, all the flirtatious disses.

We’d spend the whole weekend lying in our own dirt. I was just so happy in your boxers and your t-shirt.

Dreams, dreams of when we had just started things. Dreams of you and me. It seems that I can’t shake those memories. I wonder if you have the same dreams too (I wonder if you feel the same way too)

The littlest things that take me there...I know it sounds lame but it’s so true. I know it’s not right but it seems unfair. That thing’s are reminding me of you. Sometimes I wish we could just pretend even if only for one weekend. So come on, tell me: Is this the end?

Drinkin’ tea in bed, watchin’ DVD’s when I discovered all your dirty. You’d take me out shopping and all we’d buy is trainers (as if we ever needed anything to entertain us). The first time that you introduced me to your friends and you could that tell I was nervous, so you held my hand. When I was feeling down, you’d make that face you do.

There’s no one in the world who could replace you.