I know a real man shouldn’t whine too much. I know a real man isn’t associated with heavy flow of tears. I know a real man isn’t meant to let his mind astray from what he has to do.
But I have never felt more of a man than when you were with me, sleeping silently on my chest. I have never felt more of a man when I got to wake up from a barely there sleep to get you pills, to get your temperature and to pat your back while you were trembling in coldness. And I have never felt more of a man when you showed me your way of loving, looking directly at me and saying: “Trust me.”
I told myself to take 1 morning off to mourn you and your short presence before getting back to this load of work. But then just now, it came to my sense that it was impossible when I woke up realizing your scent still lingers on my wrist, on my clothes. Is that all that I have left of you now?
Just 10 hours ago, you were still here, asking me to sleep with my clothes off just to feel my bare body against yours. And now you’re already a million miles away, taking your gypsy spirit that reminds me of that of my old love Ben to the land where Ben has gone to as well.
Your cracking Portuguese accent singing “All You Have to do Is Dream” in our first night still echoes somewhere around here, bouncing back and forth among all of my memories. I guess that should be the only thing that I’m capable of doing right now. Dream.
When I want you in my arms
When I want you and all your charms
Whenever I want you, all I have to do is dream
When I feel blue in the night
And I need you to hold me tight
Whenever I want you, all I have to do is dream.