My beloved one, I tend my mornings not to be empty although having the knowledge of your absence. I have to make a new concept of my mornings. And my evenings. And my entire life. Love isn’t only a feeling, nor a monthly letter, nor a madness only. Love has to be nurtured with presence. Our love is on the edge of being destroyed. I am sorry to writing you this on the first day of a new yearly cycle, but I question you: is there any sense to believe in the idea of our story, when I haven’t heard not even your name for so long?
My love is losing its sense while staying on this edge for so long, so I have decided that this is the last time I address any words to you.
Since I didn’t have the chance to love the presence of the man I thought you were, I will not stop dreaming of meeting someone whom will love to love my presence.
And my last request: please do not send me a response.
I beg you to forget me.
the one that loved you (past tense).