The bracelets you made me, almost a year ago, are slowly tearing apart. The bright colours are losing their shine, the strings are falling apart. I think it's the universe saying it's over, saying we're over. Once they completely fall apart, I'll put on another one that you gave me. I'll pretend like everything is fine, because I can't bear to think that I've lost you. When someone will ask me who made those bracelets. I'll say my friend, like we still are. Like we are still something.
