I remember that morning. Was it raining? No. There was fog. Perhaps I don't remember it as well as I'd like. Maybe the weather wasn't important.
There was a shuddering red calling my name, as if choked with sobs…
I admit that I am not very good at planning dates, but I wanted that night to be special. I had spent time with you.
Out of nowhere, I was enveloped by nostalgia. Like the one that hits you from time to time, like ghosts of Christmas past, you know? Those that leave you a debt with the ethics of a kiss. I wanted it to be special. It was special, right?
At least there was a guy playing the violin in one of the streets we passed by, after I’d gone and forgotten you were allergic to shellfish. I don't think there was a more romantic moment in my life than that when, just like that, I extended my hand asking you if you wanted to dance.
I’m not talking about the dance itself; sorry for ruining your copper-colored shoes.
The moment seemed ideal to me, ideal
You were there, and I was too… and then the wail of the cat disguised as melody.
And that moon that peeked out timidly through the reflection of the windows, because the buildings were too high for the sky to bestow its blessing upon us.
I was never a prince, nor do I know about poems. You weren't a princess either; you looked beautiful. I am sure I haven't told you how pretty you look when there are no masks in your eyes or lipstick on your smile.
I like you like that. I like you like that. Before returning home, I asked you for one last favor. One last chance to save the night.
I felt even more nervous than the first time that I kissed your lips, more indecisive than that time where I trembled at just hearing your name and suffered in the corners, sighing longings.
I'm sorry. Truly, I couldn't think of anything. I know I had disappointed you. I know it was also strange that suddenly I asked you out of nowhere if you wanted to go out with me.
I regret scaring you when I told you that dress looked good on you. Forgive me for forgetting about everything else, the constant fights over things we don't know well.
Sometimes it is hard to give in. We returned home, and I kept wanting to do something for you.
I didn't have in mind to sleep with you. Not that I didn't want to. You make me happy. Only it wasn't the way I wanted to make you feel good.
I'm sorry for ruining it again.
We entered the living room, but nothing was the same. Why was everything a mess? Why were there strange noises? A shadow and a scream. Now that I think about it well… it wasn't that it was raining outside. It was only your tears remembering that you love me so, so much, while your dress was getting stained with my blood. There was no fog. It was just that my sight was clouding, and your image was dissipating slowly amidst the anguish of the tomorrow where I couldn't accompany you. The sirens were singing, and I knew I shouldn't listen to them.
I didn't want to be taken by God or by the devil.
I wanted to be with you. I still do, but my breath is leaving me, and this tide is dragging me toward the abyss. Infinite. Absolute. And Dark.
…