To Oliver: I’m supposed to be in love with you best friend. And I was. For a long time. And when I met you, I remember thinking that there was sometime different about you. I mistook loving you for fascination because I loved your best friend— when, really, I swear I found another piece of me someone inside you. We are too similar, the things you say affect me too much, we met under conditions that are too strange… I have never believed in fate until now. Perhaps someday I will tell you.