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  • Writer's pictureManuela

I lost a friend last weekend.

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The world seems a little heavier now.

Shock, disbelief, regrets, and questions have been coming to my head since.

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The pain in the chest. Tears choking in my throat that sometimes escape, silently rolling. A bit like he went. Without saying a word.

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He is a special dude, and if you had met him, you would call him a friend as well.

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He was the embodiment of nature. He inspired me and influenced me as much as nature does.

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His cheeky smile was the summer breeze when you rest under a tree. Him playing the guitar was the smell of the campfire in the wind, warm, approachable, and relaxing.

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But he was also the stern wind of the high mountains. There was a strength in him, coming from his many experiences in life, difficult to explain. Sometimes it felt like being in the presence of a gigantic peak, wise, majestic and reminding you of how small we are in front of the sheer beauty of Nature.

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He was everyone's cheerleader.

Any idea you had, he would convince you it was a great idea. He would push you out of your head, of your comfort zone, in a fun, lighthearted way.

๐‘†๐‘œ๐‘š๐‘’ ๐‘œ๐‘“ ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘œ๐‘ ๐‘’ ๐‘–๐‘‘๐‘’๐‘Ž๐‘  ๐‘ค๐‘’๐‘Ÿ๐‘’ ๐‘๐‘™๐‘Ž๐‘–๐‘› ๐‘ ๐‘ก๐‘ข๐‘๐‘–๐‘‘, ๐‘๐‘ข๐‘ก ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘’๐‘ฆ ๐‘š๐‘Ž๐‘˜๐‘’ ๐‘“๐‘œ๐‘Ÿ ๐‘”๐‘Ÿ๐‘’๐‘Ž๐‘ก ๐‘ ๐‘ก๐‘œ๐‘Ÿ๐‘–๐‘’๐‘  ๐‘›๐‘œ๐‘ค.

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He had many positive qualities. And probably many negative ones as well.

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Like the complete inability to follow time, or wash the teacups (โ„Ž๐‘’๐‘™๐‘™๐‘œ ๐‘‡๐‘–๐‘š๐‘š๐‘–๐‘’๐‘ ), or let the elbow rest after I was trying to fix it. His smile would have taken him out of jail, and I am sure he knew it.

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He was like that. And I am grateful for the time spent together.

And the memories I will have forever.

Let alone the knots he taught me to tie. I didn't know what a double 8 was, and he thought it was good to show me all the knots to pull out someone from a crevasse because "you never know". ๐‘€๐‘Ž๐‘ฆ๐‘๐‘’ ๐ผ ๐‘”๐‘œ ๐‘Ž๐‘›๐‘‘ ๐‘“๐‘–๐‘ โ„Ž ๐‘Ž ๐‘๐‘–๐‘˜๐‘’ ๐‘“๐‘Ÿ๐‘œ๐‘š ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘’ ๐‘๐‘Ž๐‘›๐‘Ž๐‘™๐‘  ๐‘—๐‘ข๐‘ ๐‘ก ๐‘ข๐‘ ๐‘–๐‘›๐‘” ๐‘Ÿ๐‘œ๐‘๐‘’, ๐‘“๐‘œ๐‘Ÿ ๐‘“๐‘ข๐‘›.

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The world has lost a sparkle, but I know he has inspired many and his stories will be told many more times.

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And I am grateful for the intensity of the feelings I am feeling these days. The grief and the gratitude. The sadness and the waves of laughter. The duality of this experience.

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๐ˆ๐ญ ๐ข๐ฌ ๐ž๐š๐ฌ๐ฒ ๐ญ๐จ ๐ ๐ž๐ญ ๐๐ข๐ฌ๐ญ๐ซ๐š๐œ๐ญ๐ž๐ ๐›๐ฒ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ฆ๐ฎ๐ง๐๐š๐ง๐ข๐ญ๐ฒ ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐ฅ๐ข๐Ÿ๐ž. ๐–๐จ๐ซ๐ค, ๐›๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ข๐ง๐ž๐ฌ๐ฌ, ๐š๐ ๐ž๐ง๐๐š๐ฌ, ๐ฌ๐ญ๐ฎ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ.

๐๐จ๐ฌ๐ญ๐ฉ๐จ๐ง๐ข๐ง๐  ๐ฅ๐ข๐ฏ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐›๐ž๐œ๐š๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ž "๐ญ๐จ๐จ ๐›๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ฒ", "๐ญ๐จ๐จ ๐ญ๐ก๐ข๐ฌ, ๐ญ๐จ๐จ ๐ญ๐ก๐š๐ญ".

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Then something happens and suddenly your schedule doesn't have sense anymore.

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You are reminded of the beauty and the sheer power of connections and friendships and people around you. Not tomorrow, not in a month, but at this present moment.

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๐’๐ž๐ง๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐ฆ๐ž๐ฌ๐ฌ๐š๐ ๐ž, ๐ฆ๐š๐ค๐ž ๐ญ๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐ฉ๐ก๐จ๐ง๐ž ๐œ๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ, ๐›๐จ๐จ๐ค ๐ญ๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐ญ๐ข๐œ๐ค๐ž๐ญ.

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I won't focus on the regrets I might have, but I will make sure to cherish the people I have around me.

Because really, you never know. And the risk of being too late is there.




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