Text #67.

March 7, 2:47 pm.

I like to think that I'm a very strong person, since I can be able to do some things that are considered hard doing. I can hide my feelings very well. I can force myself not to cry, even if it consists on digging my nails into my skin not to do it. But I was thinking about it. When it comes to you, I'm weak as hell. I cry a lot. I get very emotional and I keep thinking of you like a mad woman. Why? Of all people, why you?

Text #68.

March 8, 2:01 pm.

You changed more than I could ever imagine. Today at Lit, I walked in and I noticed that you were sitting right beside me. It was just like old times. Except you had your feet tangled with each other, your arms crossed against your chest and a big smirk on your lips. It looks like you were exactly the type of person that we'd make fun of six months ago. The snobby, dirty-minded jock. We'd used to mock people like that. In other words, you became everything you said you'd never be.

Text #69.

March 9, 9:42 pm.

Today I found a perfect song. It describes our situation so much that it hurts. It's actually a Brazilian song that goes by the name of "Noite" (night) and the singer's name is Tiê. I found the lyrics in English. It's something like this:

Words aren't enough, I can't understand it
And this fear that grows and doesn't stop
It's a story that got complicated
And I know why

What is the weight of the guilt that I carry in my arms
That bends my back and makes me tired
Time's wickedness made me drift apart from you

And when the night comes and I can't go to sleep
My heart starts beating faster, and I'm here alone
I change my side on the bed, I turn the television on
My eyes are in the eyes of the mirror and my telephone is in my hands

For how much I wanted you, being close to you was never enough
And this proximity never worked
I lost myself in what was real and in what I made up
I rewrote the memories and I let my hair grow
And I dedicate to you a beautiful story, admit it
Not even time's wickedness can make me drift apart from you

I told you so many secrets, that weren't only mine
These are the rhymes of an old diary that never belonged to me
Among unspoken words, so many words of love
This passion is between us is old and time never passed by.

I guess that sums it all up, right?