I miss your cleaning. I miss hearing you trot out arpeggios in the middle of the night on the piano, when you can’t seem to grasp reality. I miss your cooking. I miss the sound of your voice, even when you’re angry. I miss the looks you shared with Willem; I miss you looking at the rising sun at the office. I miss your smile, hidden behind your hand. I love the sound of you singing in German. You’re one of the smartest men I know. May I give you a hug? Would you want to go for tea sometime? I miss the sparkle in your green eyes. I love how ruthless you are in court, how you glue everyone’s eyes on you. Don’t let the old bastards get you down. I love the way your hands move across the keys of a piano, how they finely chop onions or carrots. You’re the most sensitive person I know. Don’t worry, JB was right: It will get better.
Thank you for your life.
I miss you so much.