Niente è com'era.

Nothing is like it was; that's the truth.
The last summer I was always happy and cheerful and the reason of my happiness was you.
We had got so many things in common like music, movies, stories and I really liked speaking with you.
You heard me, you understood me, you reassured me, you made me feel so special and loved.
But then, for a reason which still unknown to me you moved away and you stopped talking to me.
I can't understand that attitude, in fact I should be to hold grudge against you, but I love you so much that I cannot hate you, even if I wanted.
You're too dear to me, instead you are not even able to talk to me.
It's weird how two people who always had got topics to talk about now find themself in the middle of long and interminable silences.
I wanted to know you just these things, nothing more and saying sorry for the end of our relationships which seemed so wonderful and ready to last.
I love you, I love you, I love you.