In the quiet dead of night, I watch the snow fall. I’ve idealised everything about you, but maybe you really were ideal. You were legend. You had 4 technical majors, simultaneously. Regardless, you had time to win the programming contest every year you entered, and take impromptu road trips. You trespassed at will and explored the steam tunnels under our university. You summered at CERN and had an actual job at LBL. I loved the very idea of you before I even met you.
You walked into my life on a Tuesday, but the next day was a Friday. So was the day after that. So was every day, really, until you left for grad school. Our time together brought out the best in me because everything I did, I did to impress you. Discrete math, differential equations, linear algebra and quantum mechanics in one semester? Sure. Taking classes without ever taking their years worth of prerequisites? Definitely. Saying “yes” to every adventure? There’s no other answer. Three birthday desserts instead of dinner? Of course. Thank goodness you were only impressed by good things.
If I can fly, it is only because you taught me how. Thank you for still sending me things that make you think of me. Thank you for still thinking of me. Thank you for existing and making me feel not so very alone afterall. You know, I didn’t daydream back then. Our reality was better.
(Disclaimer: This is part of the letter series)