It's like minutes and hours piling upon each other to make days and months. All like the one before it. Breathing being the worst part.

Sera porque aun te quiero

Okay. So you take a bunch of shots of tequila. Not Patron, but the good kind. You muster all the liquid courage you can. Start swaying. Put your imaginary charro hat. You touch your heart. Cringe your face slightly to shown heartache. Turn the song loud. Feel the trumpets. You slowly mumble:

Las noches sin ti, agrandan mi soledad,
a veces he estado a punto de irte a buscar.

It's cheesy
You don't care.
You sing. Loudly:

¿Dime que cosa me hiciste, que no te puedo olvidar?