Carino,

    It's New Year's day! Hopefully, this year treats you better than the previous one. Hopefully, life treats you kinder. I hope the same for me too, yet after the old year has come to an end, judging from my previous experience, I'm not that positive.

    Life has been hard, you know? Not that I want to complain to you, but I have so much to tell you. It's been so long, and I miss you.

    Lately, I've found myself wondering how come you got stuck in my head. Despite the seasons changing, I still cherish your memory, hiding it deep inside my mind.

    I haven't told anyone about you, you know? Is that bad of me? Somehow, I feel if I, as much as mentioned your name, you'd fade away. Feels like profanation.

    I know it's silly. I can picture you smiling indulgently as you read this, but that's how it's been for me since I've left. Looking back and comparing the person I've become with that you met, I feel I've become both softer and stronger. Like a Newtonian Liquid.

    Yes, now I know what it is. Trust me.

    Frankly speaking, that day, when you teased me about my cluelessness, I lied to you. I learned about it in high school. But as you finally took some pity of my ignorance and patiently explained what that mysterious substance was, I had no heart to interrupt you.

    And I liked the sound of your voice.

    Yes, you made fun of me, yet you didn't treat me like a fool. I was just young. I didn't have to know everything.

    Looking back, I can't recall what did you exactly told me that day. It could have been complete bullshit, or you could have explained it way better than my physics teacher. You always seemed very smart to me, so I think most likely it was the latter. But for the life of me, I can't remember. Really. Your determination as you leaned over the marble counter with a pen and paper in hand is all I can recall from that day. I was so captivated by how you looked back then.

    Probably still am.

    You just came back from work, tired enough to be sleep standing. You managed to not slip under the shower but nearly fell when you were putting on that worn-out khaki slacks you liked so much. To me, you never seemed fake. At that very moment, when your wet hair clung to your forehead, your dark eyes squinting at the small drawing you had scribbled down to explain the principles of physics to me, you were the only authentic thing in the whole world. Newton can suck it. You were the real deal.

    I miss that genuinely just as much as I miss you, my friend.

    Happy New Year!

    Yours truly, B