But it's over now.

You gotta admit: I've been pretty good. I promised not to write you anymore, and it's been almost six months. In fact, Christmas Eve will mark exactly six months since I last wrote you. Ironic, isn't it?

You might think that I forgot about you, but that couldn't be further from the truth. I still think about you every day. It's not something that I want - in fact, I wish I could snap a finger and, just like that, get you off my head. But we all know that's not how life works. You're my burden, my ghost, and I accepted the fact that you will haunt me for the foreseeable future.

So why am I writing you now, out of the blue, is what you are probably not asking yourself, because you won't read this letter. I don't have a good answer for that. The truth is that I've been thinking about you a lot, probably since Halloween. I know how the 31st of October is the kickoff to your favourite season, how much you love Christmas, how this all matters to you, and then there's your birthday today...

But maybe what got my fingers to pull the trigger - or in this case, hit the phone keyboard - was the fact that Marie Fredriksson died some days ago. You of all people would have got what that actually means. And I'm someone who despises the phrase "you of all people". But you probably saw the news over there, and you felt as sad as I did. Like a part of your life died or something. This may sound a tad dramatic, but bear in mind that "spending my time" is the song I had my first slow dance to.

Think about losing someone instantly takes me back to you. Throughout my life I lost a lot and I had to say a lot of goodbyes. Some of them voluntarily, some of them were forced upon me. And many of them hurt, many of them didn't. Saying goodbye to you is one of the ones that hurt me, and it still do. And her death reminded me that you're also not around anymore. That I cannot just pick up the phone, call you and say: hey, did you hear? Or ask you how is your day, how are the kids, the husband, the baking enterprises...

Maybe that's why I cannot get closure: although my mind tells me that you're dead, my heart knows exactly where you are. Exactly what to type on Instagram to see what is happening in your life. And yeah, sometimes I go there. Sometimes I also feel like giving you a call, writing you a message. But then the moment goes, and it's better this way.

I cannot explain how I still feel so much for you. But above all, I cannot explain how a person who were mere words in a screen, whom I only met in person once became one of the most important things for me. And how, just like that, I lost you. It makes no sense. But still, it is real. To this day it is real.

It must have been love...