Meus dias com você
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Eu sabia que era usado, e francamente, isso não me importava. Não conseguia me importar comigo mesmo o bastante, ao ponto de me sentir usado por você.
Tinhamos semanas cheias, naturalmente cada um com suas vidas diárias e afazeres, e o único dia que podíamos nos encontrar era de sexta feira, e assim, toda sexta feira, eu ia ao seu encontro.
Era o mais perto do um momento de felicidade que eu tinha, apesar de achar que "distração" era a palavra mais indicada. Mesmo assim, a sensação de que havia um dia, em que você iria fingir gostar de mim, me era maravilhosa.
Não era como se houvesse sentimentos, mas, estar com você, me fazia sentir vivo, então, continuava sempre ansiando pela próxima semana."
Mas, por que você não apareceu sexta passada?
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