We all thought we could get it, and we never doubted that the story happened in a certain year, on a certain day of a certain month, and ended in a certain year, on a certain day of the month. I thought I could get it back, but I just forgot that time had passed, or that you never walked away, and I was the one who left. I remember the way you fell asleep waiting for me to come home on the sofa, I remember the way you ran on the playground, and I remember the way you danced on the bed with your bare feet. In those memories, your face is clear, but the scene is blurry. Are those really you? Did you really exist? If time goes by and you know the ending, will you still choose to hold my hand in the beginning?