Today as I woke up and looked at my phone, I remembered those days when I woke up and I saw that you wrote me. I remember the joy. I’d cherish the feeling for as long as possible, like when a child gets a present — I would be be simply happy without opening it. I would take a shower and feel really special that there is a present for me in there somewhere. Then I’d sit down and read it, pretending to be casual but really be happy that there is something just for me. Sometimes I’d keep myself from looking at it for hours, not looking at the message because I want to be longer is this moment of having received something. I’d even do this with emails from you. It was such a game, just pure joy. This reminds me of the videos you sent of your new place. The people listening to music on the bus, those beautiful landscapes. I still have your picture of a sunset as my background on my phone. Maybe it’s somehow relevant. I’m so sorry to have made it relevant… I’m so sorry.

Today, in the middle of the day, I was sitting in front of my desk, doing nothing, and out of nowhere I felt this strong, paralysing sensation that I really missed you. It was strange, there was nothing that triggered it, it just came, like a wave that you can’t see on the calm ocean, to show you where you really are, to wake you up to the force underneath. There at that moment, I felt that I miss you like the fish misses the water, that I want to swim again, with you, and be happy again.