I've been away. My son who was three is now eight. Imagine that. He's eight.
I'm here again because you came to my dream. You stepped inside and suddenly the past was here in the room with me. Your darkness followed you and you were only here for a moment, but I smelled you...I saw you...I felt the warmth as you passed me.
Leave me alone.
I'm tired of thinking of you randomly. I'm tired of the way you appear in my life at odd moments. I'm tired of believing that there might have been some way that I could have stopped you from killing yourself. There...I said it. I'm mad at you for killing yourself. It's been years...go away Michel. Leave me alone.
I still miss you.
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