I'm Black. And these are my thoughts. I never tried to share this, and it's not like I'm doing that right now, is it?
Anyways, let's talk about what is important: White. And why he's out, writing... whatever he's writing. Why can't he come inside? Oh, I'm sure it is because he doesn't want me to read that, right? Am I wrong, White? I already know you too well, dear.
He's probably thinking that. He's sure he knows what I'm thinking.
But he doesn't. He doesn't know why I'm out, sitting at his balcony. And it's always like that. Black thinks I'm leaving him again. He's not sure why or when, but he's sure I'm leaving.
Well... Someday I'll have to. I must let him be happy, and I want to have a family. We're not going to stay together forever, all days, all weeks, all years. Some time we'll stop seeing each other.
And I hate thinking like that.
So, I'm just trying to write a story about two friends. Two friends that met many years ago and have been together since then, but with their arguments.
Will Black believe that this story is our story? Will he recognize it? I hope so. Because is our story. About how we are going to stay together. And not about why, when and how I left him alone. For God's sake, Black. I'm so sorry for that. But you'll understand someday.
White, you can do whatever you want. I don't need you to be here. I don't want to stop thinking that you'll leave me, because I'm sure you'll do it one day. Sooner or later. Like everybody.
Let's go outside with him. Let's see what kind of letter he's writing now. I'm sure he's writing things like 'sorry Black for leaving, but I have to…'. I'm already used to it.
And even though I don't want to tell you this. White. Please. Don't leave me. Stay with me.
Black, I'll never leave you. I'll be your friend forever. And I hope you'll stay with me too.