Answer me when you get this

A year ago, on this day

Don't read if you're not ready, please.
To whoever reading this, I love you.
To Iluna, I miss you.

I'm left alone, tonight. Bad fucking idea. I'm just going to have to take it all out on my keyboard again. So please, to whoever reading this, don't mind if it gets into an ugly mess, not my fault, I'm not in charge. Not really. Don't let me ever be in charge anymore please, I just can't stand this. I've seen and heard enough.

A year has passed, already. Already? It felt so damn long, I feel like your face has decided to just fade away from my mind. I get those damn memories mixed up all the times and my own emotions can't seem to just get out at the right time. Blank. Then dark. I have a switch in my head, with a mind of its own. Blank. Cue to the pictures hung on my wall. Cue to the time we went to the Christmas market, the Magic Man. Cue to the first time we met, at the Japanese restaurant. Cue to you dabbing with your legs. Cut, cut, cut. And then just a blur. I don't even know I started crying, minutes ago. A year. A whole fucking year. Too long for a joke, too short for it to be true. So then what? Where's the hidden camera? Where are you? I know I saw you, but I didn't. It wasn't you, laying there. I know it wasn't, because I can still hear your laugh at the back of my head while looking at the pictures. Or was it? I feel like everything was just made up to play a fucking trick on my mind. Is it what this is? A trick? I don't care, just get back already.

I don't understand. I don't want to. I just feel so guilty already. Don't need to be, too. How can I mourn, if it's my fault? How can I mourn, if I can't get over the fact that it happened? Please stop this mess and just get back. I didn't have the time to say goodbye. You left with the biggest fucking smile on your face, you left with a "have a great week", you left laughing and smiling and you don't have the right to. YOU DON'T! You did not let me say goodbye. You should have let me know. It's not right. It's not true. It was someone else. It can't be.

I can't see through my tears and I must admit I'm just letting things overflow and it feels good. There's not much that feels good, lately. Scratching my arms and shoulders does. Helps me feel alive. I can't be alive for two, sorry. I can barely live for myself. Burden. This word describes me so well. Not you. Me. So come back. You left long enough.

I don't know where this is going. I wanted to make a list of everything that I can remember of that year with you, but I can barely name three as of right now. I said it already, I can't get to think straight. And I'm shaking too, too much. I remember this time we went ice-skating, and we were about to leave when Let It Go started playing and you sighed and decided to stay just because I found it funny. I can remember those long hours of class, and our mental breakdowns. I can remember when we went to eat at Sophie's, Maï-Ly's or Benoît's apartment and we just could not stop laughing, because god that war hat with that stuffed animal and the Captain America's memo note on your forehead is definitely worth a picture. I remember the time we went for Têt Nguyên Dán at Julie's house and we were there before everyone else and we just hid in the toilets to surprise them, but we were betrayed by our laughs. I remember the first time I went to sleepover at your house, and we watched Queer Eye for hours and hours. I remember the time I went to eat at McDonalds with you, your mom and sisters right after I got a date and we were high school girls again, screeching and blushing and what not. I remember the times we went to the common room at our dorms with Julie, the 80s night, the anime one, the blind tests, where we would just show up in sweatpants, unmotivated and still spend the whole night laughing, or when I just came to eat in one of your rooms and we would cry over Pokemon and kpop idols, or the spicy noodles challenge. I remember the time we went for a drink on Valentine's Day, because we both needed a date for different reasons. I remember the Ghibli nights, our long debate on whether Iron Man or Captain America was better. I remember the elevator pics, all of the times we went out, the trips to Sephora, the Secret Santa, the day we moved right next to each other, the leg-dabbing legend you were, the Bo Bun sessions, the CROUS lemon pies, your soda addiction, and how great of a friend you were. I seem to remember a lot more now. Some I don't want to ever forget; some I want to keep for myself. If I don't tell them to anyone, maybe they won't disappear, these ones. I hope they won't.

I'm not as relieved as I thought I would be, in fact I don't feel any better. But what makes me feel better is knowing you left on your own terms, and that you may be feeling better now. You were the greatest, Iluna. You truly were. And I'm so sorry I haven't told you sooner, that you did not hear it as much as you should have. You helped me, a lot. This year has been a scary ride, and I'm not ready for the next one, but I don't have to fight alone. Neither did you. The point is, take care of yourself and rest well. We're taking care of everything, down here. The next letter I'll send to you will be lighter, I swear. I'm pretty sure I'm not mistaking myself when I say that we miss you and love you. So, this goes to you. Thank you.

- Eden