🎧 In a Dream - Exhibition

Yeah. I think about it sometimes. No, I'm lying already. I think about it every day. Every night, every morning, every single day...

If I hadn't gone to war, could we have been happy? If I hadn't spent years struggling in that aftermath, if I had come to my senses and quit drinking just a little sooner, could we have been happy? If I had cried in front of you just a little less, would you have stayed?

I know. I know better than anyone that you didn't just throw me away. I know it was your only way to survive. Who in their right mind would want to keep a pathetic alcoholic, tearful, trauma-ridden veteran as a husband? But the fact that I can't stop these thoughts must mean I'm still meant to live trapped in this hellish past.

Ah, damn it, the sun is rising again. Another meaningless, rambling letter to you that I'll never send... I'm still living like this. I can't quit the booze, I can't quit the cigarettes, and I fall asleep every night exhausted from crying over nightmares. If I don't drink, my whole body shakes and my surroundings instantly turn into a bullet-riddled battlefield; I can't function.

So stop coming here. If you keep coming in and out of your ex-husband's house, the lady next door will start spreading nasty rumors in the village again. And fix that habit of crying the moment you see my face. I'm a man who won't be fixed... even with you by my side. Those days when we screamed and fought already told us that. The scars on the soles of your feet from the broken beer bottles told us that.

Even so... I miss you. I just wanted to say that one thing. Everything would be settled with just that one phrase... It's a letter I'll never send, yet it's grown long again.