You were my last foretaste of sunshine in this place which smells of stale darkness ever since. You have made me feel things I hardly thought I would ever feel for a friend. The harder I try to come close; the awkwardness becomes more and more taut. The unfamiliar air of untailored indifference makes me so sick at times. I wish I could just puke out all the bad dreams and shameless dirty-linen between us now. The pot bellied cold-blooded wound is very mutual my dear. If you were the victim, I was the sufferer nonetheless. You make me weep even today.