The hot sunny afternoon.
I remember the hours we spent together, my smiles and your absurd speeches. My bashfulness flew away, like the sound of a violin.
I had to insist, convince you with my laughter, that I really wanted you and no one else.
Full of flaws, yes. Of insecurities. Of absurd beliefs. Of a fascinating and rigid consistency. Of a young impertinence. Of all those things that I loved in a crazy and terribly hated way then.
In the heat of a thousand afternoons without you.
