I just sat back in front of computer, and I tried to write how I feel about him. And then I was just seated there, without knowing what to put. I had a white page. I looked the conversations again. Every time I remember him, every time I look his picture again, it seems like everything’s turning black… and gray over again, bringing me back to those times. Making me remember like if that was today, how I felt. I can’t describe my feelings; I think I don’t know how I feel. I just can’t say with words. I never talked again about this with no-one else. I ripped him out of my life, and a long time after that I fell again to him. I talked. It was not the same anymore… it never was a “same” to say it was not the same anymore. Because that “same” that I’m talking about, had never existed. That “same” would mean seen love. And it never existed such a thing like the seen love. We both kept it on a little casket under ground. Till that ground started burying the casket and it just went too far under ground that could never came to the supperfice ever again. And I don’t mother fucker know why I’m thinking about this. But that casket of mine on the ground some days shouts from deeps saying that it still there.
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