Hi guys

It's been a while, ne? Things have been crazy in my world – it feels like I've been on a never-ending rollercoaster these past few months. I'd try to write something together, and within 10 minutes I've lost the train of thought; or it would be that I'd be awake half the night with what I think is an amazing concept, and when it comes down to paper…

Hopefully you get some kind of sense of what I mean. That is, if it did make sense! ^.^

Anyhow, let's see how things go. I'm hoping for something kinda special, considering it's Christmas and all …

OOOOOOOOOO

Always trying for the composed look. Regardless of what day or time it is, in whatever clothes that were prepared for you – anyone could look at you and call you a 'professional'.

But there's one thing that I always seem to pick up. Everyone says it's part of your charm; the longing to be the one to hold you, protect you, make you smile and brighten up their never-ending days. I question the scale of it every time I go to see you perform.

Is it more so than usual… or less? Sweeter… or bitter. Those golden eyes, widely opened, survey those around you. Scoring them. How do they rank on your scale, I wonder? Do they fall to the bottom; or somewhat decent… or maybe… it's better.

Maybe it is better. Better than me, I suspect.

I used to tell myself – I knew you. How you reacted to my touch on your skin, to the sighs and contentness of your voice – I used to know every type of sound that you make without a musical instrument. I used to chase after you when you never noticed me, chased after the thought of who I thought you were – who you painted you were – and one day, it falls apart.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry it had to fall apart. I'm sorry I had to leave you alone, as tormented and clouded my heart was at doing such… and while my mind rationalised every reason for leaving, I wanted you to know one thing the most.

Kahoko Hino… I never left you because I couldn't love you. You know I would. We would. It was never to do with the amount of love or likeness that we had, the things that we shared. Yet, it was all you. Your 'professionalism' changed you.

You clung onto the idea that there was more out there than just music. You abandoned the violin, and me, for the lights and cheers of another stage.

Now, you walk straightforwardly for another stage – where you are once again just a young hot-shot that will probably come and go. I can't say I envy you, but I can wish you well.

Whatever part of you there is – the you that I thought I knew.