Wherever you go, whatever you do, I will be right here, waiting for you.

And I know more goodbyes at the bus station than the own bus. You're going and this becomes empty.  What I do? What it is without you? I wonder. Nothing, I reply.

I know all these kisses that are given without wanting to be finished. And those that remain in the air when you already have him away.

I know these infinite hug that recharge your energy and continue you keep filling although it out.

I know the eyes of "thanks for everything", and the change "goodbye" with "soon". And what I say of the tears shed at the thought of missing time for the next time. Or remember how happy we were the last days. What I'll tell you.

I know the taste of that "I love you" before leaving, and all this accumulation of feelings, sensations, those that you are only able to live in this station that you hate as much as you want. That gives you fired, but it also gives you welcome.

Yes, I know the fluttering coming when you know it is about to arrive. And the race when you know what comes out. And the smile that it draw on your face when you see him again.

What yes, I know all these. I know the thousand kisses that follow that hug, and the thirst that produces the long conversation.

I even know what it is that you forget everything for a moment. I love the welcome and I always hate goodbyes. I want you to keep in the station. Also, I want to know in the departures and in coming. You do not expect that we are not lucky to be away, because you never will know what is meet our again.