It’s time to meet, Sis. But we won’t, will we? I carry with me the old boxes of feelings you didn’t appear to reclaim and I’m here now in front of your door to give them to you. I prepare myself to this meeting, I repeat the right words in my mind again and again, as an old and boring song. I knock the door. But you stay in the other side, silent, pretending I’m an illusion. It’s time to you face past, Sis, it’s time to see the consequences of your own choices. I’m ready, and you?