I’ve been delaying too long to write you a reply to your message, but I hope you understand that with all the commotion, only now I have a few days to clear my mind, and bring to paper what I’ve been thinking all those days. Your words left me stunned. And because of that I also felt like I needed to choose the right words to write you.
It feels strange when it is you saying “now i realize i’m not going to see you for a year”, it gives me that soft pain in the chest and I realize the dimension of what I’m doing. Daily life doesn’t allow me to think about it most of the times, neither do other people.
The time now runs twice faster. Probably there as well. I know that at “home” it doesn’t, and the people who miss us suffer a bit in that daily eternity. I don’t feel it passing however, just in scraps from home, the end of summer in the leafs in the ground, just that.
I forgot what it is to look at a calendar, to have my agenda full. I am now guided by the sun, life, and its marvels, only that. And sometimes I think, fuck, how I wish you would be here with me. I want to talk to you, I really miss you and want to hug you hard when I get back.
You really mean a lot to me and having that thing you’ve dreamed of happening to you would be heath breaking. But few things would make as happy as having you sharing this with me.
Like i said in the postcard, life got us further away, but the last times with you have been great. Thank you again for being around, after Marisa, in New Years, before I left to Amsterdam. You were the bridge I’ve needed in the shittiest part of my life so far.
I seriously hope you’ve found in St. Petersburg what is to travel alone, how it changes you inside. That rediscovering should be constant however, even if in our daily lives we don’t have time for it. We change, we move, our nature is one that our lives are not intended for. We make life plans, we assume our daily lives as the same, because that brings security, but we also abolish boredom. We (men) stay with a partner, and our eyes scan the room like a predator in an animal urge, we are so smart and yet we still do primitive things that feel so good (like eating with our hands).
We are a confusing being, and I wouldn’t even talk about “men of honor”. That honor is based on what? So I say, fuck it. We live based on things taught to us, inside voices different than ours, a thought always based on others. Find the time to discover what you are at that moment, and make as your only rule to be honest, never hurting the people you love.
Like I’ve wrote you, we should only use the values we are guided in life with to guide our actions to a more favorable context of satisfaction. Nothing more.
To you my brother, who I could spend a lifetime without speaking, and when life got us back together I would speak and hug in the same way.
Whatever life trows at us, I will always keep your image, as my best friend.