Goal of the day: 143 words. Written: 436.
And then on other days the connection with Mileta shone like a fiber optic... Er... Light. (Yes, not very poetic.). And I have emotions to create this as if writing from the future. Inspired by the X-men Days of the Future Past saga.
Half a year after meeting: February 12, 2014.
I am writing to you from faraway Nepal.
You might not believe it, but I miss you and your quirks.
No, I'm not writing to apologize - nothing. It is not our fault that we have been singled out. After all, we can't change anything when things like this happen.
And I am very sorry for that. Our life was wonderful. I still wake up at night and the first thing I do is look to my left, to the usual place where you used to sleep in our house. I still wake up to the smell of your hair, it's so etched in my memory from all the years of kissing the back of your head. It seems I have habits that I didn't think about before.
I don't forget all the trips we took together we had. Travels to Italy, Turkey and Morocco, Spain and Ireland, New Egypt and China. I still remember our trip to Shanghai and hiding from the bombing in the slums of the suburbs. I still remember your trembling body and how I wanted to die myself, but to protect you.
I haven't forgotten all the years we spent together in Vilnius, Newford, Parma and here in Nepal. I still remember the moments when I taught you how to fence and you taught me how to bake those amazingly wonderful cakes. I never learned how to cook them as delicious as yours.
I miss you, Mileta. You were one of my greatest loves in this life. I can't say that you were the greatest, because I also loved writing, tea and gingerbread cookies. (Ha ha!)
I want to meet you again. I want to read books back to back, I want to taste your potato pancakes again, I want to see your smile again after kissing your nose. Did you know that even after Shanghai, your nose is the most beautiful nose in the world? I am sure - if there was an election for the most beautiful nose in the world, you would win it.
Don't worry about me, I'm healthy and alive. My leg is still flexible, and on the days when the prosthesis is on strike, new friends always help me. You don't know them, but you would love to meet them.
I hope you will receive this letter as soon as possible. To be more certain, I am sending five copies to where I used to be able to find you. To your personal e-mail mailbox if you already have internet in your country, for Juventus in Munich, for Isabela if you are still in contact with her, in Parma, in your mailbox in Washington, D.C. if you somehow got to the former states and one in Newford if you returned to Europe.
I hope you are well and alive and will receive this letter. May Apollo, Mercury, Skype and all the other Gods of the past help me find you.
With much longing and love,
Your Daniel
P.S You will find the address for the reply attached. If you still can't find him, write to Eritta Gwana in Mhuwa. This is my nickname in Nepal. I know - he's pretty weird.