Kate..., you tell our story to other people who tell me also.  We all have different version of stories.  Why do we tell different story to other people?  What do we gain from our own story?  Do I satisfy my story which is conceived by me?  Whether can I make another perfect ending?  Everything occurs between us that it is too fast for me.  I even do not undertand what happens to me... and you.

You leave me and leave nothing.  Fortunately, I have art which leaves a room for me.   Because of art, I am not passively imprisoned by the recollection.  Because of art, on the contrary, I frankly face the face you are.

I admit that my heart will palpitate suddenly when I hear your voice again.  Yet, tomorrow, tomorrow, I will say hello to others.  Goodbye Kate.., Hello my ...