One should not go through their sent email that dates back to the beginning of August 2009. It is full of memories and emptiness.

It’s not becoming of the ego to be reminded of how hard you tried when the end result is that it all felt apart in spite of earnest efforts and tenacity. Reading line by line over these extensions of self and emotion is like walking a calculated and deliberate line to where you’ll lay your head to rest upon the guillotine. Even though you now know how sharp the blade is and how deep it will cut, each step makes its way closer; back in time from the beginning until you reach yourself on the cusp of the present moment. And it’s a sickening addiction because it lingers in the air, stifling any respite that the vacancy would create. Your silence gains purchase on the cracks in my chest as it holds on for any light that might be left.

We will always & never have Bruges.