Charly is my exboyfriend of three years. He lives in Argentina and loves music. I dated him in 1995 until 1998 and the way that man loved me, no one has ever loved me. Him and I were a team, we were together every minute of everyday. He used to hold my hand when we walked down the street and used to make love to me every night no matter how tired he was. He played excellent music for me and used to tell me "te amo" at least 8 times a day. He wanted me to have his babies and wanted to make me his wife. Charly was handsome and a good man. He was a bit possessive and jealous but he treated me like no other. I miss him.
We have been talking lately and so many memories have been flooding my mind, like the times when we used to sleep in my tiny bed in my tiny room in my house in Buenos Aires. The many times we sat out in the cold at 4 in the morning waiting for the bus. All the weekends at his house, lying in bed, making love and listening to Lime. Like the time when he came out of the subway after a big fight the night before and he just hugged me and told me "let’s forget about everything, I just want to love you". Or the time when walking down Rivadavia we both looked at the mirror above us and he told me " estamos tan enamorados". I remember all the nights spent at our local café, smoking cigarettes and telling each other everything in our pasts. So many good memories. I regret having had hurt him.