My life used to make sense. Now I just walk the streets at night, searching for what I lost.
I saw the world from an upside-down perspective. That’s how I understood it. I used to be free.
Now I sleep all day. I can’t bear the light.
It was here. Here. This is where I did my first … cartwheel.
She appeared along that path right over there. Appeared out of nowhere, like a cartwheeling angel.
She showed me how to do cartwheels. How to let go. How to be free. From then on, all I did was cartwheel. I never walked anywhere. Never ran. I only cartwheeled. But now she is gone, and all cartwheel-related inspiration has left my heart.
And so I come here every night at exactly the same time. In the hope that she appears. So we can once again cartwheel together.
So, every night, I wait. I wait until my heart can wait no longer. And I end yet another day without her and with no cartwheels.