I can’t believe that it’s been so long since I wrote to you.

I wonder when we stopped writing to each other. Was it around the time I came to stay with you? I remember I gave you such a hard time for those few months. I thought your ideas were archaic, your habits boring, and your faith blind. And now I find myself making the same choices I once ridiculed you for. Your habits, your ideas, and your faith have become mine.

I can see you smile.

I loved spending time with you. When I was young, you’d tell me stories about kings and dark forces, about love and peace. When I grew older we talked about sports, fashion, and academics. Talking to you was like talking to my best friend.

With you, there was no need to pretend, because you had seen me at my worst.
With you, I never felt small, even when I had made the same mistake again.
With you, I never worried about being misunderstood, because you made space for all the versions of me.

My most favorite moment with you was a phone call. I had just had my heart broken, and somehow you called me exactly as I was sitting on the steps crying my heart out, questioning everything around me. As you tried to make sense of what I was saying between sobs, you told me not to worry because the Universe had my back, that ‘it’ already knew what and who I needed in my journey.

When everyone thought my spirituality was a passing fad, you comforted me using my language. I never told you how grateful I was for being by my side. You’ve accepted parts of me that I am not sure even I have accepted.

It’s easy to see now how many moments passed by me where I could have loved you more, where I could have said thank you, where I could have made more memories with you or made you more comfortable. But I am realizing that we get so lost in the imperfections in life, that it eclipses the parts of our lives that are actually worth treasuring.

You were my treasure. My best friend.

I hope you know how much I love you.