Days are empty. Squeezed of any meaning into half glass full of nothing.
They are, normal, common but not extraordinary.
Till i meet you, I was unaware about an existence like that... always with a smile in the face even when life was not OK... and the tears, the few that fell, were always of hapiness.
And i could live well in the same way i was living till then... but only if i never had met the joy... but now, it seems impossible to return being who I was before.
Days are not so bad but I want the extraordinary that you got me used. I want the contagious smile and the love we shared.
I want in reality, the promisses we made.