Dear friend...

My first childhood associations? Moves. There were so many that I've long since lost count. My mother is a famous journalist...and here comes the cliché: she left when I was five, claiming I was hindering her from climbing the ladder of her career. My father tried his best to provide me with the right conditions. Don't get me wrong, I truly appreciated it, but the constant moves drove me crazy. My father couldn't stay in one place for more than six months. And even that was the maximum. The constant change of climate and surroundings meant that by the time I was 16, I was completely alone, without friends or a boyfriend. Sometimes, lying in bed at night, I imagined myself truly happy. I dreamed of someone gracing me with a friendly look, a gesture, a word... I desperately craved acceptance. Yes, this is the epitome of a self-conscious, gray mouse. My only escape from reality was my imagination. I could "switch off" for hours. Back then, I was completely unaware of what was happening around me. Unfortunately, it didn't always end well, but this time was completely different... But first things first:

I was walking home from school. It was a sunny afternoon. The sound of birdsong effectively kept me in my "own world." Suddenly, I felt a tug as someone grabbed my hand and roughly pulled me toward the sidewalk. Only then did I realize I'd narrowly avoided a close encounter with a truck. I searched for my savior. Nearby stood a tall, blue-eyed boy with a broad smile. Yes, it was you. You spoke up, asking if everything was okay. You had a pleasant, vibrant voice. You were so charming that I let you take me out for ice cream. We went to a nearby café. We got along great; I felt like I'd found a kindred spirit. So don't be surprised how overjoyed I was when I discovered you went to the same school as me. She knew everything would change, and I wasn't disappointed. From then on, we were inseparable. I no longer stood with my head down in the hallway, nor walked home alone. I could always count on you. We experienced moments of sadness and joy together. A true and sincere friendship blossomed between us. Those three years we spent together were the best of my life.

One evening, you took me to a clearing outside the city. We lay down on the grass and looked at the sky. You told me to choose the brightest star. You told me that when you were gone and I felt lonely, I would just look up at the sky and see you. I laughed then and turned it all into a joke. We were 19, with our whole lives ahead of us...

A few weeks later, the phone woke me up. It was your mother calling, sobbing. A moment later, everything became clear. Without waiting any longer, I grabbed my jacket and ran to the hospital. Yes... I'm here now. I'm here, and I can't believe what I'm seeing. You lie still, your limp body covered in a white sheet. Your pale face, which was rosy just moments ago, with wonderful dimples. A grimace of pain is etched on it. A suffocating, hospital smell hangs over me. A great helplessness overwhelms me. Tears flow freely down my cheeks. You see this and smile. You're still strong, you want to comfort me, to hold me, you want to be my support. What a paradox! I should be the one whispering words of comfort, of solace in your ear. Telling you everything will be alright, that you'll recover. But I can't! I know you hate lies. All I can muster is the words, "Don't go!", through my tight throat. You smile again and say, "Love means knowing when to let someone go..." I grip your hand tightly, and your eyelids slowly close. I can no longer hold back a loud sob. Only after a moment do the meaning of your words sink in. Thanks to your great friendship, I understand that I no longer need to be afraid. I know you will always be with me in the form of this star, you will never leave me. So goodbye, dear friend... I love you, and although I will never forget, I am letting you go...