You sent, “I don't want you to suffer and even worse in silence because I won't remember a thing”. But I know spending time with you would be worth it, and I told you I’m sure of this because I love you.

The truth is, it would be suffering to live without you, but I could not tell you this yet because we have not even met. I don’t want you to think I’m suffering right now due to your absence. No, my days have been much more focused, meaningful, and vibrant because of every second you choose to spend with me. What I do know is that once I have you here, near me, taking care of me and allowing me to care for you … I’d get used to it. I would cherish your touch, drown in your scent, memorize your mannerisms, capture every look, and just get so attached to you.

I pray you get attached to me too, enough to remember me through your stretched episodes of forgetfulness, if God so decides to give you that kind of sickness. And even if you do forget me, I hope the memories you retain are happy ones — football, taekwondo, racing, caring for your cats, staring at beautiful scenery, having wholesome moments with strangers, and spending joyful moments with friends and family. I hope that when you forget — if you forget — you let go of all the painful parts, especially the most traumatizing moments that gave tears and no lesson. Cling to the excitement you get from playing, the sense of triumph upon victory, the satisfaction of learning something new, the calmness of peaceful moments, the sense of fulfillment out of acts of love, and the bliss of laughter you share with loved ones.

My dear, you have such a beautiful laugh. We’ve had calls where you laughed more than talked at some parts, and if I had the pleasure of hearing that in person, of feeling your movement and breathing as we laugh at some silly meme we saw in the internet or a joke you pulled on one of our future pets … I’m quite sure I’d do whatever I can to keep that in my life, in my home. Our home.

I love you from over eight thousand miles, mi amor.