I should have realized, when you walked out into the dying winter with no shoes and no keys, that you were never coming back.The places we've been and the people we once were have become distant memories, wraiths of the past, blanketed by the fog. I fight through so much, grappling with my own fear and self image trying to find you. Yet it never seems to be enough. All I seem to find are signs of you, but never you.It was the fog that brought me here, to this color-drained land of trees and silence. Everything in this world is so different.Yet there's somebody here that I know.And somebody that I don't...
