I am a very obsessive woman, sometimes silly.
I cry with movies, i like to walk on my own, and when i miss you i get neurotic, i clean the house and organize everything around me; my magazines, my video types, my books, the whole place.
I have a lot of bags, of any kind, style, size or color.
You reminded me of a bag i used to love but my mother never bought it to me, yo are just like that bag. I’m always looking for that bag even if i have a lot, i'm never satisfy, cause i need only that bag.
But sometimes i’m afraid that the bag never existed and it’s all a product of my own imagination. Are you something i create?, are you real? I don’t know.
Sometimes i just look the photographs we have together and i feel good again, cause they’re my only proof you exist, that you live near the beach, that you’re house it’s white with blue windows, an you have a dog, and your room, i love you’re room, it’s a quiet place, i like your house, it’s like home to me sometimes, even if you never really wanted me to be a part of it, i don’t know.
I never really knew what you wanted for me. It’s just that i miss you, especially when it’s raining and i'm watching a Hitchcock’s movie. I’m lying, always, all the time when i wake up or i go to bed, anytime i miss you, i miss you.
