I’m here. You’re not. I want to lose myself in this air. Cut me off. Too late, it’s been done. I’m lost and you will never find me. You won’t even try to find me (please prove me wrong, it’d be the greatest feeling), so I don’t have to even hide myself. I thought I knew how things were, but not until after that night, after those letters, after that call. I never had a clue as to what or who you are.