Mi amor perdido. My lost love. His face popped into my head when I was writing to psychocutter. Hard to forget him, first true love, first true lose. Him, he was my first love, before him I had more but he told me what he liked about me and how his life will be wonderful if I was at his side. Seems like any other guy right. Well......... no, he was a one in a million. His words of comfort. The way he made me move to the urban, the salsa, and the marengue music. The words of wisdom that he put on me. The spell that made me love him. A rose given to me very morning, and a dozen more on those days that had no special reason, just because I was there with him. His stubborness for keeping me in school. His support that he gave me with my homework. Our conversations on the hill, about random things, especially about having a family. The bond that we had was made of a mixture of gold and diamonds. The neverending laughs about each others jokes, and when we were missing up. The eternal nights that I was at his side, doning nothing, just wondering were and how far our love would go. His passion for roses every were in the house, his reminder that I was there when I wasn't. The ring that he gave me to wear on my left hand. Above all the first kiss that was given to me 3 months after we dated, my surrender. My defeat and our victory. If I could turn back the clock I would have been there when he was shoot, but I was mad at him, for something stupid. Many a times I blame myself for his death, not being there at his side. That shot to his chest was not for him, it was meant for me.