Our days are over. The days when a simple smile takes all my troubles away, the days that end in disastrous events yet your voice rebuilds me, the days when four words in response to three of yours don’t feel compulsary.

Our time is up. The time when senseless conversations last the whole night long, the time when we can make fun of anything and anyone, the time when stolen moments are of much value.

Our rhythm is dead. The rhythm of our hearts beating as one, the rhythm of our strides walking side by side, the rhytm of our shared moments in bed as one.

Wind it up and see what happens.