Paulandrea

Hope

14,107.99 km son los kilometros (contados al milimetro), que separan al escritor y receptora de esta carta, que por temas logisticos, debido a lo caro que se encuentra el keroseno para mi jet, pues no ha podido ser entregada en papel, y lastimosamente, aunque seas una sapa de metro y medio, pues tampoco te alcanza para de un salto cubrir toda esa distancia, qué le vamos a hacer. 

Anyways, lest practice some of this stupid language (fortunately not french tho), and lets try make something decent at least. 

Hello, darling, i don’t really know what to say tbh, what can i say to you that i haven’t yet? That you are cute? Yeah, I’ve said that. Maybe that you are a strong woman and i admire your resilience? I’m pretty sure i’ve told you that too. Oh, that you are my homegirl and my most real socia, yeah, that’s new, i think. And i mean it, maybe we didn’t hang out as much as we would like to, but every time we did it was great, at least for me. One day you told me that going out with me meant that you could just unplug your brain and enjoy the moment, i think about that a lot, makes me feel like there is at least something I’m not terrible at: being a good friend, at least with u, cuz yeah i suck very much at this thing called living, but at least i was able to make someone’s days a little bit better. And you did the exact same thing for me, even if i didn’t tell you that much, even if i bully you a lot, even if I’m this grumpy ass hater, i really enjoyed your company, every time you got in the car and say hi to me. all the noise up there, in this little head of mine, stopped, and suddenly the life was beautiful again. And i think that’s what friendship means, just enjoy each-other company, knowing you’ll be there for me every time i need it.

And what it was supposed to be a happy birthday letter just turned into a long ass essay about the meaning of friendship, and i used like a fuck ton of words just to say i liked hanging out with you and how important is your friendship for me, but yeah, happy birthday you cute little cunt (aussie slang, let me be), forgive me for not giving you this on paper but this is yours and only yours and nobody can see it (unless you share the url, but don’t do that otherwise it won’t be a us thing anymore), and i really hope to see you again and stuff and why do my eyes feel weird? huh, must the tiredness, absolutely nothing to do with feelings and stuff for writing this terrible, terrible letter. 

-Always yours, Camito