I have no excuse, I have no way, your letter is true, nonetheless I don’t see my life as a movie I don’t see you as part of the cast of a reality show fabricated in my inexperienced mind.
Like you called me, im a kid, mesmo que considerado por muitos como precoce sou ainda uma criança, a child craving for your forgiveness while standing on his own two feet. I feel no need to grovel, I do not worship the ground you step, but the fascination and the raw curiosity I have for you is genuine. There is more to be said although this is not how id rather spill my soul as a gent once put it. Words are not mine but rest assure I do not play you, I didn’t seek out to write another chapter in a still small book. There is no marvel in the prospect of a fuck, there is no fantasy in the intention of a conquest. Complication, a word I’m not an adept of, I tremble upon its path as I walk unaware at its side. Why was there need for such charades, why was there a detachment of what we lived so eagerly and in a floating manner in the first days. For me it would have gone on like that looking In your eyes and seeing nothing but the ultimate poem of every poet. I use the past tense in my words but not in my mind, its not as over as you want it to be. If you for one second think my disappearance has anything to do with the making of a new friend, that’s right a friend you are very wrong. My neighbour has nice ears and a pleasant taste in music, a patience of an angel, an ideal friend with a long term relationship with a drummer. I trust you believe in my words my fair lady and I call for a sweet rather than a sour feeling towards me. I feel that perhaps the best is to not plan anything ahead, rather awkward, in a small way, the fact that #$%&/#””!&… but I hope you feel welcome and once again encourage you to throw away any bitterness or resentment there may be in your mind. I am sorry.