When I was a child, I had a friend who lived in China. I am not exactly sure what made us start being friends. I just know that nearly everyday I would try my hardest to stay up so that we could talk. With me being in America and 15, this was not always an easy feat. Still I considered this young man to be my brother.
He was the kindest person I knew at the time. Even though we could only talk maybe 30 mins or so I still looked forward to our talks.
Eventually I lost contact with him. I do not know the reason or even when we stopped talking, just that we did.
I still think of him. He helped me through so much in life.
I can only hope that he knows I still love him. He was the brother I did not get to keep.
I love him so much.
And miss him all the more.