I used to make long speeches to you after you left. I used to talk to you all time, even when I was alone. I walked around for months talking to you.Now I don’t know what to say. It was easier when I just imagined you. I even imagined you talking back to me. We’d have long conversations, the two of us. It was almost like you were there. I could hear you. I could see you, smell you. I could hear your voice. Sometimes your voice would make me up. It would wake me up  in the middle of the night  just as if you were in the room with me. Then…it slowly faded. I couldn’t picture you anymore. I tried to talk out loud to you like I used to, but there was nothing there. I couldn’t hear you. Then…I just gave up.

Paris, Texas (1984), Wim Wenders