I often wrote you emails and never got a reply. I know that I am not the only one getting in touch with you. I reveal my thoughts to you. Sometimes it was just everyday things that I told you. Did they even interest you? Now and then I went to one of your concerts. At first I was thrilled, screeched and called your name like all the countless others. But at some point I realized that you couldn’t hear us. My heart grew heavy and threatened to burst. So many hands that reached out to you, mouths that only knew your name and eyes that only saw you. You did not notice them. Immersed in a world that none of us can reach. Your voice, filled with different feelings. Your body playing with all the lights. Your movements directed to someone in your world. You gave your show, a few lovely words to say goodbye to the fans and that’s it. The realization hit me like a blow and all my perception, wishes and dreams fell to dust in front of me. A pain and grief hit my body and I stopped writing to you. When your music is on the radio or I see a video of you on TV, I indulge in my memories and a slight smile falls on my lips. However, it does not last long and is washed away by the re-emerging knowledge. What I can still give you won’t be more than a smile. I realized that I can’t reach you because you live in your world … just for you. Everyone who knows you knows it. I sent you one last email, in which I explained everything to you. But as before … I got no answer. I expected that. Now I am sitting here in this café and put out my cigarette in the ashtray. The money in my hand lands on the table with a clang. I leave the shop with a nod to the waiter. Outside, the sun is shining on my face and I put a protective hand over my eyes, looking up at the shining blue. [I shouldn’t live so much in the past] I tell myself and continue on my way. A few streets away I see a crowd on the other side of the street. Many girls are standing there waiting for someone. I stop and watch them. Their happy faces tell me that they haven’t had my knowledge yet. The lucky ones … I tear myself away from their sight as they start to screech and turn my attention to the entrance. I should have guessed it. Surrounded by all your bodyguards, you leave the building and before you reach your car, our eyes meet over it. A few seconds pass. But for me it’s an eternity. I smile briefly at you, like my memories of you, and then move on. You wouldn’t remember this encounter for long anyway. If I clung to it, I would only suffer. So I push them out. I open my door and the key falls into the small green glass bowl on the dresser. After I put my jacket on, I take off my shoes. My first course takes me to the kitchen. I recently got used to the sterile white. While the water starts to boil, I fill my cup with the instant coffee. It was only available the day before yesterday. When the stove switches off, I fill up my coffee and take it to my study. My computer greets me with a whirring sound. It’s an old model and some people would clap their hands over their heads at the sight of it, but … it’s enough for my work. Before I start to work, I check my mailbox. Only customers who want to know how far their work has been corrected have written to me. I take notes on my notepad. I’ll answer them later and get to the work that I’m paid to do. It’s late, dawn is slowly setting in and I take a short break. My neck is tense, I feel the rigidity as my hand strokes it. I get up and made another coffee. I would probably go back to work until late in the morning anyway. I return to the room with hot coffee in hand. Just as I put it down next to my keyboard, I noticed the small blinking icon on my monitor. An email. So I extend my break and see who still wants something from me. I don’t know the sender, but I open it anyway. Sometimes it’s new customers. But when I start to read, I feel light tears gathering in my eyes. You finally wrote to me, an answer that I thought was lost. You say that you miss my emails because every time you read them it was a piece of normal for you. You were able to partake in a different, simple life and enjoy it very much. The hot tears flow quietly down my face and I think I’m dreaming. As if by themselves my fingers touch the keyboard and when I answer you, I know you will understand this one word. -Thanks- I close my eyes for a moment. The tears don’t stop yet and with a smile I realize that a lost faith has returned to me.