Aleksandar Pustai 1963–2024

End of December. Since that June, the Earth has traveled a circle and a half around the Sun. Me too with her. She's alive. Is that the right word for when you eat, sleep, work, vacuum the house, watch something on TV? I'm not sure. Perhaps it is more accurate to say, I exist. I'm getting used to a world where you don't exist. And yes, I don't cry anymore, just not that often. The sadness remained - silent, imperceptible from the outside, invisible, only mine. Sometimes, however, everything comes back, like some huge wave, to break me, melt into thousands of small drops, to turn me into foam, into nothing. Then I rewind that piece of life in which you existed, everything that was, everything that wasn't, and everything that could have been...but wasn't. Or is it... I miss you...