I could hold it in because I was too scared to realize that this could be real. I could stop myself from crying because I simply cannot imagine that we won't be living together anymore. It feels so unreal because it's so sudden. 3 hours ago we were partying our worries away in another crazy London club and now we are here, saying goodbye. I could hold my tears because I just refuse to believe that I won't be seeing your face every day. I guess the tears will come when you're not there to dance with me on a Friday night. Or when I arrive somewhere and someone decides to take a look at me instead of the ridiculously gorgeous girl standing next to me. I guess the tears will come when you're not there to make me laugh for hours until our tummies are aching and our flat mates want to kill us for being so loud. The tears will surprise me when I'm thinking out loud and you're not there to make a clever yet absurd comment that makes me put everything into perspective. The amount of songs that will make me think of the good times we had from now on is just crazy, so unfortunately I can't afford (both money-wise and cellulite-wise) to get myself a pot of Ben and Jerry's and a spoon every time I hear one. On the other hand, I personally consider that as a pretty legit excuse for eating ice-cream. My eyes will get wet when I hear someone talk with an 'Espanish' accent that reminds me of you (although I strongly doubt if I will ever meet someone with the same twisted accent, honestly I don't know how you come up with it sometimes, amazing). And still, both not being English girls, I think we managed quite well in having interesting and deep conversations about our lives and opinions about several things, some more sophisticated than others, but okey. It's an understatement to say that we never had a second of silence from the moment we met (the situation alone clearly announced the start of an epic friendship: ah tu parles Francais? Bon je dois te dire quelque chose un peu bizarre...).
4 months is a very short time, but only you and I can understand that living in a room as tiny as a toddlers toilet changes the non-existing rules of friendship quite a bit, if not completely. Usually you will have a sleepover with a new friend after a certain amount of time, for us the sleepover came first and the friendship followed a bit later. Sometimes you don't have to look far to find a true connection with a person, sometimes it's just right there, literally in the top bunk of your bed. And that's by far the most important thing: this connection we have. You might be in 'Ashia', Denmark or Honolulu, it doesn't matter, this connection, unlike the Wi-Fi sometimes, will never break. Just making sure you know that I don't think you are dead because I am obviously speaking as if a tragedy has happened. I know: it hasn't. But it's still an ending of a very special time and words can't even start to describe how much I am going to miss you. I guess the crying starts right now, as I finish writing this, because I know you're not here to comfort me, to hold me when I'm sad, to hug me when I'm lonely, to wipe away my tears and put that smile back on my face in no time.