Because, at the cusp of a new chapter in your life, I can’t think of anything other than the gift of an upgrade for life, and because I want to share with you the experience that had irrevocably changed the way I work and play.

Because I know you are one who will appreciate the care and precision that had gone into all those tiny physical details and, after you turn it on for the first time, you will smile at the perfection down to the very last pixel.

Because you have kept me afloat for so long, it is time for me to do so.

Because I am so flawed, you deserve nothing less than pure beauty and the best.

Which is why, for your birthday, my present to you is a slab of aluminum.

A soft cry. Then the sick sound of lifeless flesh slapping on cold marble. I turned around and saw you, fallen.

I had never felt so helpless.

You began with a simple “Hi”. My reply, uncharacteristic of the impression you probably already had of me, threw you off and made you laugh. Who would’ve thought that would lead to three years in which less meant so much more?

You were the only one who could read my mind, who could complete my sentences with all intents and subtext intact, who could begin to laugh even before I gave up the punchline, and who could see opportunities in angles and moments as if you were looking at them through my eyes.

You were, to put it simply, my shadow.

91,929,600 seconds
1,532,160 minutes
25,536 hours
1064 days
152 weeks
2 years, 10 months and 29 days’ worth of memories to be carried.

Where do I begin to remember? Or to forget?