Sometimes I feel like, I could have written about him, every day after every happy moment, when he used to sing to make me laugh, when he called me to show how long is his hair now, the new flowers on his plants, when he clicked and saved photos of all the silly things he saw, cat that messed up his bike seat, evening snacks, birthday cakes and pictures of everything just to share with me later, I could write about him when he cracked jokes to make me happy, when he appreciated me for something silly, when I found his presence as pure...