I turn to this, to writing in the dark, in the pale light of the screen because it is all I ever had, ever will have, all that I have at this moment. You have been gone for years and a smattering of months. My hands rest on the keyboard, defeated and alone. You will never read this, I will never see your face again as I remember it, as I have written it here. We lost so much and it was all my doing, the making and unmaking, the building and the tearing down.