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This is one of my favorite photos of us together — back in our hotel after sightseeing and Don Quijote-ing, looking ridiculous in our ponchos while everyone else on that rainy autumn night in downtown Kyoto looked so sleek with their umbrellas and coats and boots. We told ourselves as we hauled our comically large shopping bags, next time we won’t be looking like actual garbage bags. Next time, we’d be poised and fashionable as those Japanese office ladies. 

We’ve always been so in synch. You inspired me to learn, to wonder, to try to get more out of life. You showed me so many cool things, and we never ran out of stuff to talk about and obsess over. We used to give each other long, stupid letters on rolls of paper used to print receipts, telling each other R’hllor knows what. (Probably me rambling about Jimmy Alapag, what to put in the school paper, and can we please watch A Series of Unfortunate Events in the cinema after the monthly exam next week?) 

 Even when days got lonely and busier as we grew older, I was always comforted by the fact that you were just there. We’d always be amazed by our instincts, our ESP as we called it, how we often already knew what the other was thinking or planning on doing, even if we’re apart. 

Now you’re somewhere I can’t reach you and I don’t even know why I’m writing this. You already know all of it. I know you know how shattered my heart feels right now. I know you know that I’m not sure how I will be on the other side of this disorienting, gut-wrenching grief. I know you know how confused I am now — you’ve always been the one with the ideas and the instructions. I know you know I would give anything to scheme and laugh and explore with you one more time. 

 Just two weeks ago, there was never any doubt in my mind that we’d go on another adventure like this. Many more, over many, many years, until we grow old. Because I know I wouldn’t care if I looked silly or fumbled or second-guessed myself. Because I know I would try anything if I know I would be trying it with you. But there won’t be another next time, and I — and all of us who love you dearly — will try to live with that. 

 I miss you every day.