I wonder if I will ever see you again.
You are here, but the words you say aren't yours.
Did you finally just give up?
Did you realize the world is just as awful as you always fought away the knowledge of its being?
Or have I really just disappointed you that much?

There was a time, not so long ago, when I felt your pride.
There was a time when, even for my losses, you still saw what I could be.
Now, I see the ghost of myself through the eyes of the ghost of you.
Hating me will not bring him back.

Each day that passes brings your one bit closer;
closer to that shadow place on the hill where Jamie sleeps.
Will I ever see you again, before you go to rest there, too?
Or, have I already missed goodbye?