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?