My Best Friend is Dying

Dear friend,

You’re close to dying and I’m very sorry to let you know that I won’t be following you soon. There’s a sad aspect of our lives being different, as your age is bounded with a growing factor over the years. I don’t believe in mysteries either fairy tales, but I believe you took a leap of faith in my survival once again, as I could have died out there but instead it’s you who is getting ready to fall. Which is quite interesting with all your weariness and innocence during the span of your life. I know everything about you, I really do.

And although we haven’t parted ways yet, I’m afraid I might have to let you know I already miss you. You’re standing there, at this very moment having no clue about what the fuck I’m writing about. Or even doing, you don’t really know very much about this world besides sleeping and eating, haha. But you’re a great listener, you see. I remember at the peak of my youth having you listening to my cries and whereabouts on life for hours. You knew how to deal with my secret emotional hypersensitivity, and you kept it secret for years too. You fought by my side against the manly stereotype I have always struggled with. Funny how some things never change.

I’ve noticed you just turned yourself around and I notice how hard it is for you to breathe as the days go by. Your weight loss. Your weakness. Cancer sucks the life out of you, just like it did to our grandfather. Well, there’s nothing else we can do about it now. So I promise you I’ll give you the best palliative care for you to die peacefully.

Perhaps we’ll meet again. I hope not to find you soon, but one day instead. And I’ll tell you about my rock-the-boat lifestyle cruising down twisties playing Warren Zevon and challenging life.

And I know you’ll fight the reaper for as long as you can. Beat those fucking odds you silly cat.

Unfaithfully yours, João