I live a lot of lives next to you. when i wake up, i'm a postman. this is my first desire in the morning — to find a message from you. a crumpled trail of your head on the pillow. a closet door you forgot to close in a hurry. your car keys that disappeared from the hallway or a cup left in the sink. words on telegram. a smile and a kiss. your tracks, your messages. and i'm a postman, i carefully collect each of them. in the afternoon i am a hermit. you work, i work, each of us strives for life, we both despise idleness. i'm a hermit, i'm shut off from the world, i growl at its noisiness and enter my trip to fantasy, i write. about you, of course. and the stronger, the more perceptible i feel your absence, the more unpleasant the world around me becomes. i just remember about you. i miss you. and all the rest is just an echo of those feelings. you are my light, my golden sunflower, and i am your sad black and white charlie in a funny hat and ridiculous shoes. i'm a fool, i'm talking nonsense to make you laugh, without stopping. i am an arguer, i share my thoughts with you, walking through the labyrinths of vital views. i am a librarian, i listen to your words, reading the precious book of the closest soul. i'm a villain, i'm kidnapping you from everyone to spend time together, only two of us. i live a lot of lives with you. and without you i will live one single, infinitely long death.