Images.

Some for experience, others from imagination, all meshed together, forming a collage of painful, bittersweet pictures.

Somehow, it has to become easier. Somehow, the imagery must fade. Somehow, the emotion must becoming less overwhelming.

Must stop imagining. Must stop seeing. Must stop the pain.

Have to believe again. Have to trust again. This is not a personal wish, rather, it is a personal command.

Somehow.