November 26.
It's been a year since your death.
I still miss you. I miss you so much, every single day. And I'm sorry I couldn't do more to help you. I wish you could have stayed because I love you so much. I would have given you anything—but all you have is my sweater. And I still have the polaroid photo you gave me of us. I look at it often.
I hope you're doing okay now. After all that, I hope you're happier; just know that I miss you. I miss you more than anything.
But I guess some of us are meant to be memories. Though, a memory is something you never forget. I promise you, my clover, that I'll never, ever forget you.
Maybe the rain hid your pain. Maybe it hides mine. But it never made me fake the joy I shared with you, and I hope the same for you.
To me, you were heaven.
To you, my love.
- Eric Sohn
