Current time of writing: Wednesday, December 7th, 18:59 PM.

Brother,

I hope you're doing well. I know we don't really talk much, and I hope you forgive me for such, but this letter is for you. I know you're leaving, and I know you know it, too. The day heavily approaches, and I'm not sure whether to feel happiness or sadness. But here's to all the things I never got a chance to say.

I'm going to miss you, Brother. The others will, too. It won't be the same without you and that's a fact.

We're going to miss that arm of yours that can throw a softball across the Quad. We're going to miss those pants that you wear, that look like khakis but with elastic bands at the bottom - I chuckle every time I see them. We're going to miss seeing your small car that never has enough space to carry anything. We're going to miss your athleticism. We're going to miss how angry you get when we don't do what's expected of us. We're going to miss your speeches, how the entire room shuts up to listen. We're going to miss your pick up lines, except they don't really work when we use them. We're going to miss your stories, the ones that always make us laugh.

Thank you for volunteering your speakers every time we have an event. Thank you for taking care of us when we're passed out in your room. Thank you for reminding us why we're here. Thank you for pushing yourself, and pushing us. Thank you for approaching us when you see us and saying hello. Thank you for approaching me when no one else could. Thank you for leading us to victory. Thank you for planning events for us even when we don't attend. Thank you for being the life of the party. Thank you for trusting us. Thank you for holding us together when we couldn't do it ourselves.

Like a lamp, you guided us with your experience. Like a lute, you brought us together through your words. Like a knot, you held us close with every heart beat. You were the one that made us laugh. You were the one that made us cry. You were the one that made us live. We love you, Brother, and we hope your next stop is as good as your last.

YITBOS,
Your Brother