Dear Orpheus, I'm still sorry and I still don't know why I called your name. I do love you and miss you. In my past life with you, I wrote you a letter, but by the time it got to you you couldn't remember what words were. Chances are if you're reading this and know who you are, you now know what that letter said, so I'm writing a new one. I adore music now- I'm a pretty good singer, I can remember melodies, and I'm not bad at the piano either -Eurydice 1/2(Eurydice play)
I still enjoy reading and writing, though not quite as much as I used to. I'm trying to get back into it now though. It feels like my emotions for music and the written word have switched between these lives in a way. I wonder if it's the same for you? I no longer have to find a worm to send this to you, but I know very few people who know this version of our story, our tragedy. I just hope at least one of you is out there to read it. Love, Eurydice (Eurydice play) 2/2