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As sometimes happened he went silent for a while, I didn’t think much of it. Only after a few months he asked if we could talk, he needed to tell me something. He had been ill. Lung cancer.

But, fucking hell, why dindn’t you tell me? Why? Maybe I could have done something, be there for you?

Oh God no, he said. Yet another one asking me ‘how are you?’(BAD! it’s going bad!) ‘How do you feel?’ (Crap, I feel like crap) ‘Can I do something for you?’ (No! No one can do anything!)

All these well ment questions had added up to an insurmountable pile of unanswered messages for which he didn’t have the energy to answer, not even one. He felt guilty and even more miserable then he already did over every single one of them. And he wasn’t feeling to jolly already.

But… but…

But what if I promise I won’t ask. I won’t. Not once. I will send you the sun, even if it is just one ray. A flower, so you know it looks like spring at least somewhere on the planet. You don’t have to do anything, don’t react. Just let me have the feeling I can be there for you.