In the depths of the rooms of my heart, a haunting melody plays. It is debussy's Clair De Lune, and it pulls me far, far ago to a time distant beyond measure; a place when I've lost all hope, and tried--desperately--to break my body.

I had failed. And, in all my sorrow, I wondered if there was anything worth living for...

and I found this scrap. This tatter of music, which stole my soul from me for a little while, and lifted the heavy mantle of sadness from my shoulders. When I heard this tune, I could cry; when I heard these notes, I was not ashamed to be weakened. There is a beautiful fragility to life, one that should always be preserved.

I never want to break that fragile beauty, any more. I cannot think of it; and am sorrowed beyond measure when it's even hinted at. I just want to find a path with even the slightest hint of that emotion--when I could smile through the tears that fell, and when the pain stopped being chained to my breast.

So if you read this, be taken back. Find that one precious memory hidden in your heart, the one buried past the everyday hustle and bustle and the noise of your routine.

Go off. Be alone.

Remember.