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You aren’t here anymore. For more than a year already. Maybe I should have started earlier with this, now my notes about you start today. I don’t know what this is going to be. Or what it is good for. Maybe for everything, maybe nothing. Maybe it should be therapy for me. I had thought that I was cured. I imagined it. To be healed of you. How ridiculous.Obviously, nobody can close the gap that you left behind. It is completely hopeless.Through you I have experienced what love is. Love is when you win the lottery and don’t have the urge to leave your girlfriend – but to share the profits with her. And then maybe even marry. And that’s kocaeli escort exactly what I would have done.I don’t know what you are doing right now and how you are doing. But other things I was able to find out. Where you moved to, I know from the internet. The way you’re looking now as well. I miss you, everything else would be a lie. None of the things that you and I did wrong, could ever change that. Nothing that went wrong and nothing that I’ve seen, makes me miss you less. Nothing. I miss you. Maybe more than ever.I dream of you almost every night. Realistic dreams. I dream of you when someone else is lying next to kocaeli escort bayan me. I dream, I would be with you again. I dream of having sex with you. Sex with you is unparalleled. Your body is unparalleled.Never before have I desired someone as much as you. Your grace, your timidity, your care, your voice. I’ve never been so crazy about a body before. Your dark eyes, your perfect lips, your black, unruly curls, your perfect skin. Your breasts, which are sagging a bit because of their sheer size, but that makes them all the more attractive. This incredibly exciting smell of yours, your gorgeously sweet smile. A izmit escort fleeting touch was enough and my excitement knew no limits. I was not used to that at all. With all the women before you, it was never like that.I remember the many summer evenings in your old attic flat that felt like a sauna on hot days. On one of these evenings a thunderstorm gathered over the adjacent cornfields. The air was flickering like in the Sahara. All the windows were wide open, we could feel the electricity of the approaching storm in the apartment. After a cold shower you and I were lying on your bed, our huge playground, in this oppressive heat. For me, your bed was an almost magical place where things happened that were completely new to me. When we touched it was like sparks were flying. It did not need a particularly intimate touch, casual skin contact was enough. Back then so little meant so much.