Every day I come here, to the grindstone of my thoughts. I lay myself before you with my heart exposed and my soul laid bare, my hands giving shape to secrets amassed from years of yesterdays. Days spent in hopeless yearning for the simplest pleasures that life has to offer: to laugh with you in the sun, to lie with you in the dark, to walk with you in the wind. I come here now and crumble before you, a simple creature with only simple wishes, wished too late. We collapsed from my need for more some time ago – my need, not for something simply to be, but to be what I want it to be. I will destroy a thing in an attempt to make it exist. And now I offer my penance: my secrets spoken, my longings voiced, my love made naked to the eye. Too late, perhaps, to restore us… but better late than never.