i've been thinking and dreaming about you for the last couple of weeks. it's my fault for not being able to comprehend the magnitude of your grief 3 years ago, and the real reason you came back to Amsterdam then. it's my fault for letting you go. i feel like an end is coming. we've waited so long that the wait no longer seems to matter. your face keeps slipping away from my mind even though the memories are still fresh. you keep telling me: stop thinking about what you don't have, but cherish and look at the things you have. his face was right next to mine, and i couldn't see beyond my insecurities, my selfishness - blindness.