I accidently came across your account on Insta and last photo was dated just the day before you disappeared. I've never paid attention on it.
Just the day before you disappeared and three day before your body was found.
We still don't know it was an accident or you've commited sucide. And it's painful.
And all these years I have been realising that I wasn't a good friend, I guess I wasn't even a friend. I was just an obsession of your ex-boyfriend who ruined your relationship twice.
I still feel guilt. I know that it isn't connected. It had happened long before your death and you had a new boyfriend after all. And it is he who we can blame that he didn't stopped you. Who didn't follow you. But I think he has been blaming himself enough and we have no right think he is guilty.
It's unfair. I had thought that we have plenty of time.
To chat. To laugh. To walk. To hug.
We didn't have. Suddenly.
I remember us lying on those giant wooden cubes in the park under the sun. I remember us wearing shorts and laughing about our hips. And how you couldn't choose the colour of your vans.
I remember you, Viki.
And it means somehow you're alive, my bright sun.
I'm so deeply sorry.