"Don't you ever think of going back?"
Silly question. There are threads that help you find your way back, and there are threads that intend to bring you back. Mind turns to the pull, it's hard to pull away. I'm always thinking of going back. When Lot's wife looked over her shoulder, she turned into a pillar of salt. Pillars hold things up, and salt keeps things clean, but it's a poor exchange for losing your self. People do go back, but they don't survive, because two realities are claiming them at the same time. Such things are too much. You can salt your heart, or kill your heart, or you can choose between the two realities. There is much pain here. Some people think you can have your cake and eat it. The cake goes mouldy and they choke on what's left. Going back after a long time will make you mad, because the people you left behind do not like to think of you changed, will treat you as they always did, accuse you of being indifferent, when you are only different.

Коли я закохався, це було так, наче я вперше подивився у дзеркало і побачив себе. Зачудований, я торкнувся рукою щік, шиї. Це був я. І коли я подивився на себе, коли звик до свого "я", то вже не боявся ненавидіти певні частини себе, бо хотів бути гідним того, хто тримає дзеркало.

Nothing about you has faded. You are still the colour of my blood. You are my blood. When I look in the mirror it's not my own face I see. Your body is twice. Once you once me. Can I be sure which is which?

I have always been a sort of archivist, glutting myself on what has been left behind.

You made yourself a character in your own story, at least as much as I made you a character in mine. Now it's impossible to know what I was told and what I created.