My guides from the afterlife are very strict about the commitments my soul has made at this point in my journey: it was necessary for me to incarnate as a "standard man" with all the limitations that this entails, such as: No extrasensory perceptions, no magical powers, normal physical abilities, limited and strictly heterosexual sexuality, male mental structure and therefore incapable of multitasking as well as multi-orgasms (damn bastards, I know you will read this letter and rest assured that even on this when I return WE WILL SETTLE THE SCORE!), etc. etc. etc. etc. etc.
IN SHORT STEFANO: They did everything to limit me and in particular, regarding the two of us, they did everything to minimize the influence YOU had in my current life, but there are things that do not convince me, and that is why I decided to communicate directly with you.
As you will remember, you were more than a friend, I considered you like a brother, and for many things, despite being the same age, you were a role model to follow.
YES, IT'S TRUE: Then you started behaving badly with me, and after various attempts to maintain it, I decided to break off all friendship, I stopped seeing you and went my own way.
The last time we saw each other here on Earth was in 1994, I had graduated just over a year earlier, fulfilled my military obligations, and found my first job, I think I rarely felt so accomplished in this life, probably due to my happiness I don't think I behaved well with you, or at least not well enough by my standards, regardless of the opinion of my guides.
What makes me suffer more and more, and which is now unbearable to remember, is that I did not perceive at all how bad YOU were at that moment, the last one we were allowed together in these lives.
You died a few months later from an overdose, I found out by chance only months later, when you were already buried who knows where, and only because my mother had met yours and started extolling my virtues, as she used to do at that time, and only at the end did she remember to ask how YOU were, causing your poor mother to burst into tears.
In the simple mind I find myself in now, one of the few positive things is that I don't immediately feel the blows that life deals me, they only come later, triggered randomly by external events or the emergence of repressed memories, so when I learned of your death I didn't feel great emotions, I was indifferent, and the only comment I could make was "damn! I didn't even know he was using drugs," I don't even think I said I was sorry, I was more worried about your mother than sorry for you!
Only later did the memories of You protecting and helping me in that new and hostile urban environment resurface, memories sharp as razors that I struggled to suppress but that stubbornly demanded a toll on my new life as a respected engineer, reminding me how heavy the transfer to that hell had been for me, how inadequate I was to face it with that body that grew much more slowly than yours and made me appear like the stupid little brother when we went around