From the slight parting of my curtains, a thin sword of light slices through the darkness of my room and embeds itself on an empty glass nearby, leaving a rainbow scar, large and wide on the keyboard before me. For the last 4 months, 3 weeks and 2 days, these same 26 letters have been both my tormentor and catharsis, a heartbreaker as well as my greatest confidant. Every word and sentence I wrote in this book was like a deft puppeteer pulling at my heartstrings, a conductor orchestrating a symphony of my deepest emotions. Completely drained now, I’m nothing but an empty shell of a man. However, If I were to die right now, I will do so with peace and a broad smile across my face, with the delirious knowing that I’ve just completed a masterpiece.


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