I like to believe that you’re still here. In the wind and the trees. That your connection with the earth remains. I wonder what transformations your soul took. What you would’ve noticed or maybe found funny. I write down what I remember. I knew from our first conversation that you were my type of person. We were so similar in so many ways that it felt strange when we were at odds. You reminded me of home. Because of our similarities, you could empathize with me in ways others could not. You believed in me and made me feel seen. I’m grateful you let me know that I made you feel similarly. We didn’t always understand each other. You were patient when I was angry. Always reconciling with a hug, an apology, and “love you.” There were about six months where we didn’t talk and in the past year I knew we were each making efforts to repair our connection. I know, with no question, the love and respect we had for each other was mutually felt and known. But I wish there was more time. I wish we could have a million more conversations. I miss laughing with you. I will remember what I can. I will continue to write about the fraction of you that I knew so well. I will look for ways to honor you. And as I knew from the beginning, five years ago, I know I’m always going to love you, my friend.