Today I wanted to tell you about my move to my new room. It’s a new step and I’m not sure it’s the right one. I will probably have it when you come to visit London and I hope you’ll like it. Yesterday I was looking at google maps and saw all the marked locations at the Ruhrgebeit. It was sunny outside and I remembered our walks and the beautiful things we saw together. I remembered that moment when I was sitting behind you in the train, thinking that it’s worth living in this world, that there is beauty to be found, that we don’t exit this place like we entered it. I’m sad and sorry for all that happened and I wish I could go back and change things. I want to tell you how much you mean to me and how I would like to be with you and try to live a full, beautiful, meaningful life with you. It was only two days ago that I heard your voice, your voice saying that you love me, and I miss you already…

I remember you saying during our conversation that I am always so generous with my words. It occurred to me, that maybe I’m not so generous with my actions. I’m so sorry, I was wrong. I should have been better. And now I’m crying and remembering that it was you who thought me how to cry again after all those years and I’m so grateful for it… crying reminds me of you.

(and every message I get I think it’s maybe you)

Today I would tell you about the market I went through in the morning. It reminded me of the markets we never saw together that you always visited. I wanted to send you this picture I took of people moving around in the market, going about their daily lives, creating that small, almost invisible moment of harmony.

At work I almost cried. As I try to orient my life around you I see it’s all imaginary, an insane person’s final grab at the unattainable. An object shot in space with the knowledge that it will do nothing, like some rubber band that was pulled and it’s now wobbling on its own without any rhyme or reason.

When coming home from work I saw bumblebees collecting nectar as they flew from flower to flower to the the rhythm of some elaborate symphony. And I remembered how I used to put my ear on your chest and listen to your heart beat the tune of my life.

Today I would tell you about the mind-numbing emptiness of life that I see around me at my new job. The dark, empty corridors of life that lead nowhere, the harrowing silence of inhumanity. The rabbit holes that seem to have swallowed up people around me and how I see myself falling down the hole, leaving nothing but an empty shell of myself. I had a dream yesterday of going mad, of making no sense at all. I had imagined the time you would come and I would be away, in another country, loving you, missing you, yet not here because I could not take it any more, the fact that I’m not enough. I’d cry far away, living a million deaths.

At work I looked in to the mirror to see if I’m still there and I saw this white hair sticking out of my dark beard and I suddenly remembered the moment you took one out like that. I remember how playful you were, how you tried to take it out and when you finally managed, and it hurt, you giggled and hugged me. I wished you were there, taking it out, so that I could hug you.

Today I would tell you about how I saw this man on the train  to work patiently explaining to his son a children’s book not unlike the one I gave you, and how I would like to do that, with our child. And I would tell you how I shouted at this bank rep for no good reason on the phone and how I felt ashamed about it afterwards. And I would tell you how I felt about the way you started that fateful conversation, asking about what I did that week.

Today I would tell you about the squid I bought so I could make the pasta I made for you back in my old place. Today, just like last time, it went well and I made a mental memory of where to get it and how to make it so when you come I can make you some good food.

A friend of mine said yesterday that two months is nothing, and that I should be able to wait that much without a problem. It’s true, but it’s not only the wait… you don’t want to talk to me in the meanwhile. It’s as if I was shut out from your life. I feel like I’m just a burden, an invisible, mental burden that one needs to get rid of. This makes me really sad.

Today I would tell you about how I got lost in London trying to navigate myself. It was strange, because I used to enjoy being lost, wandering around but somehow I became irritated and nervous. With you, I always felt that being lost was, in a sense, the goal. I still remember being in Düsseldorf with you, having messed up as every museum was closed on Monday, and you making the day so effortlessly good. It was liberating not to feel pressured to be perfect. That experience in Düsseldorf marked a turning point in how I thought about myself, how I viewed my failings… and here I was, in London, feeling inadequate again, trying to mechanically push through instead of having a good laugh at it all, like we did by following random people and having a couple of drinks at a cosy little bar. I miss how effortlessly easy it was to have a good time with you. You made it so easy on me. I miss the feeling of being free.

Today I woke up to daydreaming about you. Yesterday I saw some jewellery and I remembered the jewellery I almost got for you as a goodbye present when you were leaving in December. At the same museum, I saw some elaborate boxes, too, and this morning all these things came rushing into my head and I thought about how I will find a good present for you when you come and visit. I want to find something beautiful for you…

Today I read an article and it suddenly occurred to me to send it to you, but then I realised I cannot. I wanted to hear your opinion, to discuss with you, hear your excitement and joy about something interesting to read. I wanted to hear what you had to say. I remembered all our times exchanging articles and opinions about them, patiently listening to each other’s points of view and discussing the many topics we always covered. I miss our intellectual conversations. I still remember you being worried about me shying away from the intellectual on our first date..

Today as I was riding the tube I had to blow my nose and suddenly I remembered you telling me on that fateful day that you miss me blowing my nose. It was one of those beautiful, simple, everyday moments  that I miss from that conversation, from you.

At work a colleague went to bike with some people to the French Alps up to 1800m high, and I suddenly remembered that you went running where you live, and how it was difficult because it was high up and the air is thinner. I still have the picture you took of the sunset as my background photo on my phone…

In the evening, as I talked with a friend who went to a wedding, I suddenly fell silent as she explained how beautiful the chateau was where the wedding took place. I wish I could explain this one in person…

And finally, on the way back to home I looked at my phone and I saw the cracks again, and remembered the time we went to bike and it fell out of my hand as I fell from the bike. It was a good time biking and I was happy you came up with the idea of going for a bike trip.

Today I would tell you about the gas card that ran out in my new apartment. It reminded me of the time you mentioned that you have an electricity meter that you have to top up, just like my gas card, and that I mentioned that it’s probably not secure. You said that you are always amazed at me and it really felt good. Then I listened to Szerelem by Márta Sebestyén on my phone and I could hardly listen to it all the way.

On the way back from work a guy put up his shoes on the train seat and I remembered our ride the way back from the last excursion we did. You put your shoes up on the train and the train conductor kinda funnily made you take it down. I remembered how we laughed and then read our books on the long train ride home. I miss that kind of simple, everyday reality that we had.

A friend of mine has a webpage that half-jokingly, half-seriously opposes war in a sarcastic way. When you click on some of the links, it says “One day all which was lost will return.” When I clicked, it made me think of her, our time, our moments. That text to me seems to mean that nothing is truly lost, that we just give things back, for a short while. I miss her and her optimism.

What I really wanted to talk about today was the morning. I woke up, and my daemons came and haunted me about what she meant that she loves me and wanting to meet me, whether she really wants to be with me, or, more likely, that I’m imagining things and this is her way of saying goodbye. A cold, hard, excruciating goodbye. It makes me want to curl up and do nothing, wait eternally for something to take me from this place, where I’m pretty sure I don’t belong.

There were other things, though, that made me happy. Today I read and obituary and it was mentioned that the loved ones of this man, his wife and children, were at the hospital with him and I thought, I want you to be there… And I saw a fake ad of some child pointing up in and the parents faking a smile looking where the child is pointing at, and I thought about the mind-bending trips we took from our beds and sitting in smoky bars, just the two of us.

PS: And the other day, it occurred to me, that last day, us, playing in the playground, in front of the Italian restaurant we ate at. Being carefree and happy with the gloom over our heads but staying close and intimate.