i remember when i had first spoken to you – september 18, 2010; a date thats been engrained in my memory, the password to my iphone for all thats worth.

i was 19 when you died (it still feels so strange saying that you had died – even more bizarre that its been over 7 years since then and the words still sting). when i first learned that you had passed away, it was like a sucker punch to the gut.

you were one of the strongest people i knew, and i envied you for your confidence, boldness throughout our friendship.

when did the world dull that inner radiance you wore so well?

im sorry i never tried harder to keep in touch. im still shitty at keeping in touch (too many thoughts for my little brain to process).

i still think about you. a few days ago when i was back in my parents house, back in my childhood bedroom, i went through my sophomore yearbook.

your message was the first one i saw – i mean, it was inevitable since you wrote on the cover, your note scribbled in purple sharpie, mostly written in german with a hint to use google translate. i never translated your message and maybe that was a good thing. maybe knowing what you had actually said would make it lose its magic, the mystery of it all.

in english, you had written that you love and will miss me (you were going to boarding school the following year).

im sorry i never told you how much you mean to me. its always been second nature to pretend i care less than i genuinely did (i guess i still do this – a defense mechanism and all?).

im sorry, for not telling you that i give a shit about you, that you matter. the “i love yous” mean nothing if youre not in this orbit anymore.

if i say it now, could you hear me?

and i wonder what youd think of me today, if youre currently looking down on me from wherever you are in the afterlife.

are you disappointed, are you proud?

this is my first time writing about (to) you in years. to be fair, i had a writing hiatus as i found more comfort in drugs, intoxication and recklessness to drown out the sorrows, the guilt and the regret.

i wonder if you know about all the external chaos in my life (and the internal chaos that i hold privately).

i never wanted to be, the person you see,

but thank you.

thank you for giving me the voice i needed to find so badly when i met you at 15, the boldness i held because of you (up until my 2019 breakdown). im trying to find it again.

can you help me?

i still think about you, even seven years later.

GFY, fleur