Relapse
We've met again, I see. You look brighter than years ago - prettier, more mature. Let us fill the void, the gaps that fenced between us. Tell me your stories, all of it. Tell me how your days went by. Were your nights cold? Do you still cook your own dinner? Did someone finally take you out on a date? Tell me about your dreams. Were you able to achieve them? Did they change? If you did, I am so proud of you. If not, can we achieve them together? You smiled, I see that. You must have achieved them so well. How about your heart. Tell me something. Do you still look at the stars? Do you still talk to our star? Because I still do. I talk to it like a mad man. I have looked at it so much that I have realized that stars can take the shape of a person you love; perhaps, the shape of you. I have talked to it so much that sometimes, I hear it answering me, or perhaps it was just the ghost of your voice. We've met again, I see. You're in a shape of...
