Dear Lily

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Dear Lily,
February 6, 2020

We've never to been to Bali this time of the year. It's beautiful. L wears sweatpants in the morning and shorts by noon, and I wait for him to wake up on the back patio, and I'm drinking too much coffee. But I can forgive myself-Indonesian coffee is without compare.

It was not easy deciding to leave. A lot of things had to go on hold, and for a little while, I felt like I was disappointing a lot of people, even you. Maybe I am.

But the first moment I stepped into the villa we chose for the next thirteen months to call our home, tucked away on virtually the other side of the world, I knew I had made the right decision. We can see the sunrise from the back patio and the sunset from the balcony of our bedroom on the second floor. It's a two-minute walk to the beach, and we go almost every day.

My guitar and sound equipment arrived by mail yesterday, and L helped me set it up in the spare bedroom downstairs. Thank you so much for helping arrange that. I want to put music to the lyrics he wrote for me, and while I try to do so, he sits in the room with me, either napping or giving very useful advice, for hours on end.

We've both given up trying to cook for ourselves and our nightly patrons at a local place down the street that makes the best bir pletoks, which have become my and L's favorite. For breakfast, L has a cigarette and I have a piece of toast, and always try to convince him to also have a piece.

He never does.

I'm unsure how I'll go back to normal life after this. L always being fingertip-length from me is such a luxury, being able to write music with him, swim in our pool with him, listen to him yell at the TV watching a football match, collect his clothes from around our bedroom to do laundry on Saturdays-all of it, I never want to end.

L was right. We needed this. We needed an adjustment, time away to remember who we were and what we wanted. I am Harry, and I want Louis. More than I want a career or success, I want a family and love, and that begins with L. I am determined to change his mind about marriage-by the end of this thirteen months, I know I will have proposed to him at least twice in a drunken stupor, and he will have said yes at least once.

If we do ever get married, you will be at the top of the guest list.

Everything feels healthier, more rounded. When we get drunk, I can't stop staring into his eyes, and L can't stop hanging off me, and I never complain. We dance in the local bars and hold each other as we walk down the street, and I am so, so lucky.

Lily, I'm writing to give you an update, but, more importantly, to thank you. Thank you for listening to me just a month ago, letting me tell you everything. My life is different, and so much better, because of it. Please write me if you need anything (I'm serious), and feel free to stop by our house if you want to take a swim. I don't want the pool to go neglected for too long.

All my thanks and love,

H.

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