I’m starting to see it again. For a while, it was broken, like the black screen of my phone that won’t take pictures of our life when it’s like this. You were cold and impermeable, like the You that only appears in my nightmares; the ones from which I wake sobbing. 

It won’t be easy. I’ve been in bed with a migraine from our first session. But it’ll be worth it.

There was a scratch on the disc, and no amount of elbow grease could buff it out. So we have to find a new song.