I bought her coffee, in case she
would come back. 

All these habits we co-create,
this little garden of shared
secrets. I'm still looking for
Tia Maria, she liked it in her
coffee. I still want to please
her, to become what I though she
wanted of me.

I haven't replaced her, I don't
really want to. Letting the
memory of her slowly fade
away. Letting the wound slowly
heal.

This momentum that is created
between two persons, this rhythm,
this dance, where the music stop,
and you loose the other. For a
moment, you keep on dancing,
moving, wandering, until the cold
lonely dance floor becomes
unwelcoming. What was I doing
here? Where am I going now?

Reality becomes bleak, you walk
back into these familiar but
hostiles streets, trying to find
where you came from, trying to
find the comfort of your
home. But this home wasn't built
for you. It was for the other, it
was a nest for a past reality.

We're dipped into the memory of
the past. Everything we built for
the other. Can we fit a new
person in this broken reality
fueled by our own past? I built
this castle, do you want to me my
new Queen?