I felt her with my cold  bare hands.
I got my hands always cold and maybe I should had let her know about that too.
I wondered if that would be the last time?
I wondered if the truth I was desperately looking for in her wasn't just me wasting my own time before I could face my own lies.
If I once loved her, Love will one day know. If I once fooled her,one day she will know.
If someday the truth shall be reveal to me, then I rather it to be on a Sunday sunset, when I'm old  and my time will be counted by the swings of my rocking chair.
Veronica Knows more than she tells and perhaps I write more than I know...

But I did liked her...
I learned how to...
I learned how to like her coldness and after-thoughts.
Her liking without loving.
Her giving without losing
Her books all over the place
Her free-spirit kept in a Coca-Cola can.
I learned that She doesnt like honey, but she loves it when with green tea.