it's not often here that the doorbell rings

I was running about today in my head but I found nothing except for a little scrap of paper lying on the floor (it was scrunched up and grey as if it had been kept in someone's pocket for too long being taken out and put back in now and then until one day it was thrown away). The creases had been folded along so many times that it was falling apart and the corners were round and fraying. I unfolded it with care.

"Dear you,
I have heard your cries and replies on this matter at hand and I'd fully understand if you gave up now. But there's still a part of me that wishes that things weren't this way, and that there was proof of the contrary, however impossible it may seem. You may deem this to merely be a foolish comment from a person completely ignorant of how things are, but I assure you, even if it may be so, at least it has come straight from the person's heart.
I'm leaving now. I thank you for the days we've had together, and the things you've inadvertently taught me during this time. I do not know where this path will take me, and where it will leave you, but you have my best wishes. Go in peace forevermore.
Signed, "

And there the note ended, in a scribble and a scrawl that was no longer anything but a washed-off shade of ink.

Funny, how things end.

Funny, how they begin.