Dear Jack,
This home feels empty. It feels like a house. It is decorated with memories and people breathe in here.
But, all of it feels hollow. If I close my eyes and listen closely. Very very closely. Then, i can hear a small ringing voice resonating round and round in to this emptiness.
And my heart feels empty, too.
So much has happened that i cannot bring myself to wonder how will it end.
Why do you refuse to fade away?
You are always here. In hurt, hope, sadness, joy, tears, smiles, smirks, demise. Everywhere. In every feeling.
I can relate my whole life to you.
Who do you think you are?
And who you actually are?
Your old friend,
Curiosity.
