These Letters End in Tears

“I had grown accustomed to carrying around this feeling of emptiness inside me, an infinite hollow waiting to be filled. I woke up with that feeling, carried it with me all day, and took it to bed. ... It felt as if there were two beings living inside me; one was content with the boredom and the other was constantly on the lookout for something thrilling. When I tried to silence her, sticking to my routine and the life my mother laid out for me, she made us sad for days. I persevered in spite of being at odds with myself, hoping that someday soon, something worth living for would come along.”

“Each of these letters end in tears, Fati. Years and years have gone by and I’m still stuck in my memories of you, stuck in this place between misery and sweet recollection.”