Come back

I came back. The door opens and the knob hits the wall making a hollow echo sound of an empty flat. I drop the keys on the little table by the door as i look ahead and they drop to the ground for the table is gone. Here and there are holes which were once filled by things, and moments and warmth but now lie gaping and empty. I call your name expecting but not accepting to hear the silence which answers me. I walk around and think I need something to grab onto something, a story, possibly the truth, because there are too many questions which swim angrily and fearfully in my mind. It is a warm summer day but i feel a cold spread in my stomach like a heavy stone. I turn into the bathroom to find a sellotape letter taped to the wall but what does it mean? I search in vain for an answer, a hint, a foothold. There is no address and the letter is so angrily written I feel the deep imprints of your writing with my fingers as if the answer lies in the touch and not in this scribble. I read it over and over sitting on the bathroom floor but the words bounce off of me like little pellets of ice in a grail storm. I write to you this letter which I have sent to every place we have ever been and every place we had planned to go in hopes that you might hear me. And remember and turn around.