— Madeousia —

She sended me a video from the live. Tom, playing the piano. The way the notes dump yet soothing. The feelings. The lucid sense all over. The impulse to cry. The tiny clues. The light. The sound. The adaptation he made. The gestures they make.
Where is she now? Where is he now? Somewhere closer or farther away from the place I am now? Where did the melody go? Flowing in the night somewhere. Walking in the night somewhere. What am I getting now?
Oh, god. God. God. I don't know. God.