Hey there, A!
You’re probably tired of my letters now, lol. You have to deal with it, though; I mean, you bombarded me with quite many too. No, I’m not complaining; in fact, I’d kill to get one more. Just one more.

I miss you, A. I miss you so much; it hurts. I don’t see the vivid images in my mind anymore; I don’t remember how you look like in your shirt when I wear it, and it’s scary. A, sincerely, I now have to squint or shut my eyes to remember. I think that’s what pains me more — knowing that you have not been a part of my life physically for a while and that, no matter how much I try, you’d never be. They took away your pictures and handwritten notes from me; Dr. Jade said it wasn’t healthy, and they listened to her. It’s so unfair. There’s nothing to sharpen the images in my mind when they fade. There’s one thing that hasn’t faded the slightest bit, though — your voice. I hear it everywhere and every time.

It was my nineteenth birthday the other day, remember the plans we had? I had the best wishes, letters, gifts, and a not-so-surprising surprise. However, amidst all of it, I couldn’t stop thinking to myself, “it should have been today, A.” I didn’t get a letter from you, no text (I swear I checked my phone), no hugs, not even that horrible singing of yours.

I want to say that I’m making progress, but it’d be a lie (and yunno, I’m not so good with lies). I still can’t say your name past your initials without a cracked voice. I still have your shirt. You’d think that after all these years, it’d be my size, but no. Fela says it’s not healthy to keep it, but I don’t care. I think that if I can hold it to my nose, close my eyes as tightly as I can, and allow myself to slip away for a while, I’d get a quick grasp of your smell. It works, at least most of the time.

I’ve grown taller, yay! I dey follow Fela drag height sef (he’s going to deny this, but don’t mind him. He’s a hater).

Do you remember how you always said I’d be a kickass teacher if I tried? You lied! What??? I am terrible at it. I tried it last year, and it was so unenjoyable, eeww. Well, it could be because they’re elementary school pupils, though. Maybe I’d try a higher grade next time (or not).

You didn’t get to meet Chioma, Geek, Fela’s new sister — Fidara (yes, my namesake), or even this boy that I like. Omo, A, you’ve missed a lot. Ah! Not to worry, though, I’d keep sending you letters. If I don’t keep you updated, who will? Also, I asked Jesus to give you a window seat; I hope he did.

I miss you, A. I miss you so much. Every day. Multiple times a day. How do you ‘get over’ someone who gave you so much to remember? How? Almost every time, something reminds me of you. I was in the estate shuttle the other day (oops, didn’t tell you about the buses earlier. The colours are not so good sha and they usually drop me at the junction and make me walk all the way to the house, pfft) and a lady was talking to someone on the phone with the same name as you. I cracked. In December, it was someone with a similar haircut. I could have sworn the person was you, A. Sadly, you’re not here anymore. I wish you stayed; I really do. Cancer is the ghetto. I hate it so much. Hopefully, it gets killed soon — punishment for taking you away from me. Your mum says I’m beginning to act so much like you. Can you blame me? You were such an amazing role model (I won’t call you big brother. We can’t have your head swell too much).

I miss you, A. I love you now and always.❤️ I’d write to you soon; I have so much gist. Maybe someday, I’d be able to say your name without a tear. Even after all these years, it still hurts like the very moment you left. Say hi to Jesus for me. Bye!
Forever your little shawrri,
Fifi.

I kinda just like to rant here.