June 2nd, 2018
I think you are the love I will always, always remember. I will always wish, you will always wish, that we had met a few years later, that we had been born in the same country, that we spoke the language. I will wish you the best, from the bottom of my heart (the heart which you have filled up), and you will wish me the best, and we’ll keep being friends.
In another time and space, we would have started living together in a small, rented, student flat somewhere in Düsseldorf last year, laughing at each other’s choice of colour and design at the Ikea – well, you’d give in, of course. Like you almost always do. But I’d still pick a shade of green because I know it’s your favourite. In fact, green has grown on me and now it’s one of my favourites, too. Then we’d pick a font for our names – you probably would want a funny one or a standard one and I’d want a cursive – and hang a little nameplate over the doorbell.
We always wondered: Are we in love? Are we meant to be? Should we? But now I know, and you know, that we were never more in love. That this is love. You taught me how to love and trust and to be happy and to be silly.
All the names we had for each other – no sweethearts, honeys, darlings, but a language of our own. Words and phrases nobody else could understand, like it was our little secret. Yoi. Floi. Hugga. Hugtatorship. Angry sock throw. Tukka tukka. Alles Yois der ganzen weiten Welt. Pup. PUP. Boop. Bup. All our words, untransferable to anyone else and unique only to the two of us. Nothing compares – no darling, honey, or sweetheart will do. All our rituals – the way we boop our noses together, the way you pick me up and carry me around, the way I try to lift you off the ground, the way we play at being trains around the house, the way we follow Günther the cleaning robot around the house, the way you tukk me in at night. How I say baba? and you close the closet door so I can sleep sound. I will always remember. Always.
The way you know I need soup at every meal, the way you bring me creamy asparagus soup (Asparagus, because then we can have a good laugh about it) when I’m sick, the way you tell me what will be right for me because you know, the way you look at me always with those big brown eyes, the way there’s always Apfelschorle in the fridge and frozen vegetables you don’t ever eat when I’m there, the way you bat your eyelashes against mine so I can hear them, the way we yell “bear hug” and you hold me so tight I feel like I’m going to break
And I know that I will always compare – nothing will be the same now that I’ve known what love is. What trust is. What it means to know everything about another human being, to know that I am always, and really always, welcome where you are. That you will drop whatever you are doing when I’m around and forget about the rest of the world. That you will stay away from your favourite friends, your favourite games, for me. If I need that. That you will always put me first. Always. Over anything.
The doubts I have had. The fears. The panic. That you pushed aside for me. The times you’ve talked me down, hugged me until I fell asleep, the times you’ve tukked me into bed.
The way I wake you up in the morning with a glass of iced tea. The way you wait for me to order you pizza because then it is Yoi Pizza, which is the best pizza in the world. The way you come looking for me when I’m away from you for any longer than ten minutes, even if it’s me going into the kitchen and cooking like always. The way you walk away from me while looking at me still in the kitchen, making funny faces. The way you hug me at the train station. The way you take away my backpack and suitcase and won’t let me help you carry anything back from the Kaufland. The way you come with me to DM or to the Galeria and get bored but listen to me, then head to the toy store with a naughty smile. The way you finish my food, the way you help me order food because you know how much I can eat.
Because of you I am able to love. Love others that came after you. Love my friends. My family. Peter. You.
And I will never forget you.