I haven’t felt right since you. I’ve lost my linearity; I discompose. Lay gnawing thoughts to rest in the empty space between us — aching to be known — if only you would remember they are there. But you do not remember, I lack the nerve to remind you, and with each passing day my fears hypostasize: our voices fade further into distance; we create our own dead-end. Perhaps this is as it should be, but I am afraid for it all the same. You see, I’ve come to feel the magnitude of your significance. I find that you still are to me what you no longer care to know, what my words have always failed to express. What I am terrified to tell you. But I must tear down what takes shape ahead of us, will construct something new out of what remains. I will remind you of our importance to each other. So we can begin to build beauty into the framework of our future.