Hi, Bel. It's me: Dan. Hope you're well. 11 months, 1 year since you're gone. I mean: we. I remember your smell. It's a gentle smell and it's deep rooted into all the songs I listen over my days... It's kinda crazy 'cause I am sure you don't feel the same but I know that day you felt. I told you the last time we talked each other: 'If we must be together, we'll be.' But I didn't know it would hurt so much. How much will I have to wait? How much lives will I take a wait? Please, come back. Take your sit. There's hot coffee yet. Please, where are you, Bel?