My admiration for you goes back a long way, to a few years ago. Since that, I’ve had a folder in my laptop that contains over forty unpublished drafts. I also have not one, not two, but three playlists about you. I still keep a stack of your photos, stored inside a box with ‘flash delirium’ written on a piece of paper that’s attached on it. And on top of that, smelling a trace of your perfume, when a stranger passes by for example, still makes me dumbfounded.

I said my friend was crazy when she told me I was crazy, until a few days ago.

You know that psychological game when the interviewer asks you one question and you have to answer with the first word that pops in your mind? Like if she said Sumbawa, I’d answer ‘beach’, or if she said England, I’d answer ‘dream’. The other day, my friend and I played that game, and your name came up. You know what my answer was?

Still.