Hi you, my dearest love and friend. It is this day again. The first time you miss your big celebration. It is Silly and me now sitting in our apartment. The night has gone longer and quieter. But I start to gain more warmth and strength thinking about you. At least i try to think more of the sunny days we had together. You know how hard it is to write something to you now. Time seems only to bring bad news at the moment. It must be great to be a dead man. I cannot say that i envy you for being dead. I do appreciate life and everything it brought along, all the memories, good or bad. But damn, it must be so much easier for you now. You are a lucky man among the unluckiest, Andreas. You should be here now with all of us, complaining about the world’s pains and sorrows. You would be so angry knowing Trump has yet again been elected, FrP gaining momentums, and me still not seeming to care much about politics. No, you wouldnt complain. You would just be annoyed. I know you too well. 59...