It was almost like I was all she cared about…like everything she did was for me. Almost. Truth be told I miss her, I miss her a lot. It’s like a piece of me is missing, I am broken and no one can fix me. I don’t know if I want anyone to try. The music slows down and I switch the songs, blending the beat into one. The crowd cheers and I think that this is what I really love… that maybe I don’t need her. And it scares the hell out of me.

“They love you…they all want you.” her voice soft, filled with desire, with want. Her breath on my neck, her lips brushing against my ears. “But you’re mine…never forget that.”

I can feel her next to me when ever I’m here… when ever I lose myself in the sound of the club. When the music flows from me, so easily and passionately. I can hear her voice, like she’s whispering it in my ear… like she’s standing next to me. I shouldn’t like this feeling, I shouldn’t crave it… but I do. I can’t help it; she is a part of me. It’s that simple isn’t it? When you’re in love… you are almost one. Almost whole, like for once in your life you are complete.

I mean that’s what life is about isn’t it… about finding someone you love. Someone to make you whole, to make you laugh and at times cry? Someone who cares if you come home each night…someone who see’s you, and no one else. Like you were made for them and they were made for you.

There are times when I think that maybe I’m crazy…maybe it was all a dream. That she was so perfect and so flawed that it made her more than perfect, that she was just a dream brought to life. Sometimes I think that I am dreaming right now…that if I concentrate hard enough I’ll wake up in her arms. With her kisses on the back of my neck… the feel of her smiling against my shoulder as she pulled me closer. Holding me tight and never letting me go…and then I realize that I’m not dreaming. That she was real, and for one moment in time she was mine….and my heart breaks again, leaving me hollow

Then I think of what she did…of the thoughts that went through my mind as I paced the hotel room waiting for the big moment. When I smiled to myself thinking that it would be my last day as Carmen de la pica Morales. It hurts to breathe, it hurts to think…to be here at this moment. To be in this place…it’s almost like I’m waiting for her.

Watching the crowd, looking for her. Waiting for her to walk through those doors… with that mischievous smile on her lips. Her eyes so honest and hidden, as she stands there watching me. I wait for her…and I know that I shouldn’t. I wait for her when I know it will never happen.

Or worse yet, she will walk through those doors and I won’t recognize her. And she will have forgotten me…and I will always be waiting for her. I will always be hers…and no one else’s.