Dear You,I put on your favorite movie, yesterday, I couldn't watch it till the end. I tried reading your favorite book, couldn't keep up because my eyes kept welling up with tears. Why? Because all I could think of while watching the movie and reading the book, was what must You have thought while in that moment. Your name kept playing in my mind, again and again. So much so that I couldn't focus on what was before me. So I don't know why they robbed that bank in Dog Day Afternoon, and I don't know anything further than the First Chapter The Sense of Man, or what does Thomas really write about the society. And I can't watch the k-drama we were watching, because it just makes me want to pull out my phone and text you about how pretty the characters are or how alike we are to them when they quarrel. I'll never watch the Stanford Prison Experiment, simply because those moments belonged to you and with you. I will never look at the Everest with the ignorance that I used to, or listen to the playlists you made me without trying to memorize every word, even though the songs are in Italian. I wish we could've gone to some pretty museum and I could've spent my time listening to you talk animatedly about Pharaohs and brag about your big Harvard brain. I wish you'd come back from the hospital all fine and say "so um... listen I was being dramatic, I'm okay." But you're in pain. Miles away from me right now, you're enduring a rib crushing pain for every breath you take, wired to a ventilator and I don't want to let go. But I know, I should. You always said, Be Selfish. Live only for yourself. That was your advice to me in the last letter you wrote me. But as much as I want to, I can't hold on to you. Not when I know, I would be the cause of your pain for as long as you'd be alive. Just because I couldn't stand losing you. And there perhaps might turn up a donor that matches, but we can't sail on that. We can't anchor you on a feeble "what if." I'd never forget Bonnie and Clyde, or "you're at the prism of your life" or the time we solved your criminology assignment together and you came up with the most bizarre explanations. The sound of your laugh will always be my favorite sound. I know you always thought you were a bag of chips, so easily replaceable, then unsedate yourself, come over, look me in the eyes and tell me why this entire fucking month, since you've been gone, since 21st of December, there hasn't been one single fucking day that I haven't thought of you. Or that there is some way that I can fix this pain in my chest. Or that 20 years later, The Great Conjecture wouldn't instantly remind me of you. I love you because you are so interesting and complex. I love you because you fascinate me. I love you. I'm sorry, but I love you. yours lovingly,A

Dear You,I put on your favorite movie, yesterday, I couldn't watch it till the end. I tried reading your favorite book, couldn't keep up because my eyes kept welling up with tears. Why? Because all I could think of while watching the movie and reading the book, was what must You have thought while in that moment. Your name kept playing in my mind, again and again. So much so that I couldn't focus on what was before me. So I don't know why they robbed that bank in Dog Day Afternoon, and I don't know anything further than the First Chapter The Sense of Man, or what does Thomas really write about the society. And I can't watch the k-drama we were watching, because it just makes me want to pull out my phone and text you about how pretty the characters are or how alike we are to them when they quarrel. I'll never watch the Stanford Prison Experiment, simply because those moments belonged to you and with you. I will never look at the Everest with the ignorance that I used to, or listen to the playlists you made me without trying to memorize every word, even though the songs are in Italian. I wish we could've gone to some pretty museum and I could've spent my time listening to you talk animatedly about Pharaohs and brag about your big Harvard brain. I wish you'd come back from the hospital all fine and say "so um... listen I was being dramatic, I'm okay." But you're in pain.Miles away from me right now, you're enduring a rib crushing pain for every breath you take, wired to a ventilator and I don't want to let go. But I know, I should. You always said, Be Selfish. Live only for yourself. That was your advice to me in the last letter you wrote me. But as much as I want to, I can't hold on to you. Not when I know, I would be the cause of your pain for as long as you'd be alive. Just because I couldn't stand losing you. And there perhaps might turn up a donor that matches, but we can't sail on that. We can't anchor you on a feeble "what if." I'd never forget Bonnie and Clyde, or "you're at the prism of your life" or the time we solved your criminology assignment together and you came up with the most bizarre explanations. The sound of your laugh will always be my favorite sound. I know you always thought you were a bag of chips, so easily replaceable, then unsedate yourself, come over, look me in the eyes and tell me why this entire fucking month, since you've been gone, since 21st of December, there hasn't been one single fucking day that I haven't thought of you. Or that there is some way that I can fix this pain in my chest. Or that 20 years later, The Great Conjecture wouldn't instantly remind me of you. I love you because you are so interesting and complex. I love you because you fascinate me. I love you. I'm sorry, but I love you.yours lovingly,A