“I’m no one, no one at all. I don’t know how to feel, how to think, how to want. I’m the character of an unwritten novel, wafting in the air, dispersed without ever having been, among the dreams of someone who didn’t know how to complete me.”
I called his name again and again. And I learned that each time, nothing called back. I learned that no matter how much you want something, how many times you scream for it, sometimes it’s out of your reach.