What happens...

when all you really care about is art?

and revelry?

and love?

I am someone else.
I am the same.
I am different...
from who I was back then.
Back when?
When I had you...
When I lost you...

Everything is so transparent when you look at it
after it's gone.

I wish I could control myself.
I wish I could let go of this fear
of being loved.
of believing in love.
of having you...
of you having me...

Will you teach me?
How to love you?
I can't do this alone.