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Fuck

I hate this feeling like I'm putting a spotlight on myself. I just wanna explain everything.. even if there's no need for me to explain.

Huh. So talking to you is like going to a small room and be empty.

Why does it feel like you're dead? Where are you!?

Wait. January 6? How do you...

Happy Birthday Jan..

I kinda miss you... 

I think I should let you go now.. Should I?

I'm sorry. I didn't continue the dream... I was just a few moments closer to save you.. I'm sorry and thanks..

Ah. You were so young.... But I'm still here anyways. I like you. Keep breathing.