As I planned before the big change, I advanced. I can draw well and I moved at least three steps closer. The dream from back then never left me and I have a certain pride at this fact.

Contrary to the plan, however, I also regressed. I can no longer talk about this sorrow, because no one wants to talk about it. People have their own lives and I know they could care less about mine. Drawing has become my only form of true communication. And even then, I only show myself.

Though my lack of communication concerns others, I find it perfectly normal. No one in my own world judges me, so why should I leave it?

But this thought process is not what you wanted. You, who upon a single smile gained a thousand new followers. You, who trusted unconditionally when only a third of that thousand deserved your trust. You, who had to leave when anybody else could have. And every time I remember how great a person you were, I wonder how horrible a human being I must have turned out to be to lose you.

And every time I attempt at improving myself, I fail and regress even further.

But I still am the same. I still continue this dream, because you know how I’ve wanted this. You would have loved to see how much I have advanced, and I would have loved to see your face as you recounted how proud you were of me. My brother would have been happy, and may have been a bit different. Mom would still wear heels, and dress up for you every day.

But these are all would be’s, and you are not here.

…But I’d still like to be in my own world, and you are still there.