Dear Tom,

It’s kind of funny that we’re always looking up for something, always trying to reach something. We’re always walking around in the dark, trying to get this thing. This thing we don’t even know what is.
It’s even funnier the fact that I never asked for it, I was just moving on, living –or better, surviving- and it just popped up in front of me.
I can deny as much as I want. I can say that I don’t care as much as I want. Deeply inside I know that you’re my something, you’re my everything.
Also, I know it wasn’t a choice because if I had the choice, back then, I would choose you out of my life. Now, I not only want you here, but also need you here.
It’s annoying the way I become addicted to you. One day you’re just someone out there, one more living. On the next day you’re already everything I thought of, everything I wanted, everything I needed.
If I like it? Don’t fool yourself thinking I’ll answer this positively, because I hate it. I hate being under your control, I hate loving you this much. Oh God, I hate you for doing this to me.
And at the same time, I can’t get over you. Not because I’m unable to, but because I don’t want to.
But how could I ever wish to get over you when you bring up all good of me? All sadness go away with just one smile from you, and the day gets brighter with just a laugh from you.
But life is not perfect, is it? Life is not fair, neither easy. And for not being easy, fair or perfect, it put you far away from me, out of my reach. You have no idea how much I hate life for making me so far away from you. But I also love it for putting you in it.
Every night, before sleep, I wonder if I will meet you someday. And in silence I beg God to somehow put you in my way. Just for a little second, just once. It’s all I need.
I know that if I have this second I will wish more and more and even more. But will be that kind of wish ‘Yeah, I do want to see him again. But it’s okay if I don’t, because I’ve already seen him once’.
What do not mean I’ll stop trying to see you every single chance I have. But if I fail on them, at least I will have this though comforting me. Do you get my point or it only makes sense to me?
Maybe I’m one more in the world telling you this, maybe you don’t care at all about a word I wrote down here. Maybe you’re not even reading this.
If I care? No, I do not. Why? Because I’ve done what I had to; say what I feel and let you know you’re important somehow.
But for knowing you pretty well, I’m almost sure you’re going to read this until the last word, and you will care somehow. You will care because you will feel happy for have done something this important for someone. And no, I am not saying you will care for me. You will care even more about what you do, because you will realize –once more- how beautiful it is. And this is one of my reasons on writing this.
Sometimes I wonder if you know that you saved lots of lives –including mine- all around the world. And I’m almost sure that you have no idea how many it were. I couldn’t put it into fingers if I asked some hands from my friends. Yeah, it’s too high to count on them.
By the way, this is another thing… Do you have any idea how many friendships were built because of what you –and the guys- do? How many friends I’ve got because of you –and the guys-? God, I don’t think you know.
I was thinking about telling you what I like the most about you, then I realized that they were too many and this letter would be too long –more than it already is-. But I don’t need to say you what your qualities are. If you don’t know them, a thousand people already told you.
I also don’t need to tell you about your defects, because this I’m a 100% you know and have heard people talking about them your whole life. The funniest part is that are these defects that makes you perfect to me.
I mean, I know you’re not perfect. Any of us is. We’re all human, and defects are what make us humans. But knowing about them, understanding them, and dealing with them is what it is all about.
We’re not here to be perfect. No, we are here to deal with defects from other people. And it’s funny the way I can handle yours so easy. The way I can see them, talk about them, and finish with a “He’s human” at the end.
People say it is called “love”. But do we know what “love” is? Do, any of us, know what “love” means?
We use the word “love” to talk about a feeling. This feeling that we think of the other person all the time, we just want to be with them, make them smile and all this things. You know what I’m talking about. They say this is “love”.
They say to me that what I feel for you is “love”. And yeah, I do feel for you all the things I just wrote here. But I also want you to be happy more than anything. I don’t need to be the reason of your smile, once you’re smiling. I also don’t need to be with you. I wish I could be, but it’s not a necessity.
So, is this “love” too? In my opinion it is not. I think –and I do believe it- that “love” is just a word, and not a feeling. “Love” is a word we invented to explain to other people how we feel, without noticing that it don’t really explain.
So, yes, when I say “I love you” at the end, I’m meaning that you’re important to me, that I have this feeling –that me, you, or anybody don’t understand and ever will- for you, and that even it hurts and it’s not what I’d choose, I’m glad I feel.
I didn’t want to be like everyone else and end up saying the same thing you’re getting tired to listen –in this case, reading-, but it’s inevitable.
I also didn’t want to write so much as I did, but writers have this problem: we can’t use few words. We just go on and on, trying to put as much of us on what we’re writing. And this always results in longer letters/stories/essays/whatever than we planned.
So I apologize to you, for writing so much, for taking so much of your time –if you actually read it-, for maybe being annoying.
My last note is: don’t ever forget that we are here for you, like you are here for us. Forever.
May I say “I love you”, or you already got it? But yeah, I do love you –remember the meaning of this right?-