I have never seen any so-called saints. And it's hard for me to be when I haven't witnessed. Last July, we first met. I still believe that God led us to meet. Because you said so first. If there were saints in this world, you'd be the closest. But I suppose there's a hidden agenda behind any kindness. Secret conversations in the room. Voice memos that you left behind. There's still so many things that I don't understand. You tried so hard to change me. And I changed - only for you. But you're gone now. So how could I hold onto myself? I think I'm going back to past myself. Drowning, and drowning, and drowning. I'm searching for a way to get close to you again. I can see those millions of neon lights shining below. I'm going to ride the wind to see you. And as I fade into the night, I can finally be with you - forever.