It was her who made me feel good in B. I didn’t understand that before. I read through our very earliest messages, and there it was. She was the one planning all the things, inviting me around, sending links and talking about art and discussing about culture and feminism and class. It was her who made me happy in that city. She was the one full of energy and kindness and care and it was her who wrote the most beautiful essays of love that only on the surface seemed normal but deep down they were sonnets of love and care. They were the manifestation of kindness and thoughtfulness, the kind of thing that only happens when one is being attentive, paying attention to the other. It was the care that I mentioned to her in that last email — the ever-present, gentle care. The one you only notice isn’t there anymore when you fall. I fell and I miss it. I miss her. I miss her care and gentleness. I will miss it all.