I stopped for a moment. I am very sorry, Alberto. I have never wanted to break your heart. I used to be in love with you. Now? I want to walk away. I lit up a cigar. It is easier not to think of you and past, now. Quite a few things, actually; we were in Milano, we were walking on wet pavements with the smell of renaissance with italian language at a rainy night. I can’t stop regretting myself, I had loved you long enough, I refuse to feel guilty, love is love, it had started in Milano and...
Alberto
A