The end.

The sky is endless now. Can't sleep.

I still read the book about India he gave me the second day we met.

It's all over, but the book is not. So ironic...

There is a slight promise of future. What dreams may come? Dreams may come true.

Or not.

Hard to deal with the not stuff. Ok, last Sunday I cried, felt a deep pain, could find a friend in the middle of the night to help me. He had decided, let's move on. Maybe one day, if it's written in the stars, if it's to be, it will be. It seemed so easy for him to say.

I had other losses in life, I was trying hard to remember I could survive. I did in worse moments. Went out with this friend, there's always somebody to save me - God never leaves me alone. Eating, talking, dancing! We have lots of fun together. Semente, my dear Semente. Samba to save the soul!

Back home and he looks sad. And kept on saying didn't wanna lose me, love me, miss me. How can I move on like this? He did, he's already done. He's not my man anymore.

Now I'm fine, or less bad, trying to move on. I dreamed too much. The same way, I talk too much and think too much. Just like him.

Anyways, I don't regret. I'll never do - we lived this dream together, we made it come true for 5 unforgettable days. Love is always worth living. I just don't understand why it is perishable like the flowers he gave me for Valentine's Day. Why isn't it like all the other gifts? The last one: an awesome Indian necklace.