Dear Clark,

Tonight, I lay here with another fever. My body feels weak again. The kind of weak that makes me realize how fragile I've become. I've been in and out of the hospital, and each time I leave, it feels like I'm just waiting for the next time I'll have to go back. It's exhausting, Clark. Not just the sickness, but the loneliness that comes with it.

You used to remind me to drink water, to eat, to rest. I can still hear your voice in my head whenever I feel like collapsing. You always had this gentle way of caring for me that made everything seem okay. I wish you could see how much those small things meant.

I miss you, Clark. I miss you in ways that words can never fully explain. The ache has changed over time, it's no longer loud, but it's deeper now. It's a quiet, lingering kind of love that lives in the corners of my heart. I've learned to live with it, but on nights like this, when I feel my strength slipping, it comes rushing back all over again.

Three of my college friends told me they're getting married next year. I smiled and congratulated them, but after the call, I cried. I cried not because I wasn't happy for them, but because I once imagined that future for us too. You were the only person I ever pictured standing across from me, waiting with that smile that could calm my storms.

Do you still think about me, Clark? Do you still remember our small moments, the laughter, the sleep calls, the late-night talks that felt endless? I wonder if you still remember the sound of my voice when I said "I love you." It's been months since I heard yours, but those three words still echo inside me like a melody I can't unlearn.

I don't know if you'd want to hear this, but my health hasn't been good lately. I'm trying to be brave, but sometimes I'm scared. I'm scared of how fragile everything feels. I'm scared of what the doctors might find next. But even through the fear, I still carry you with me as strength, as warmth, as memory.

If there's one thing I've learned through all this pain, it's that love doesn't disappear just because it can:t stay. It lingers. It evolves. It softens. It teaches you how to hold on and how to let go, all at once.

I hope wherever you are, you're doing well. I hope life is being kind to you. I hope you laugh often, eat well, and sleep peacefully. I hope that when you look back at us, you remember it as something good, something real.

And if, by chance, your heart ever aches the way mine does tonight, I hope you know that somewhere, I'm thinking of you too. Always

Good night, Clark. I miss you.

Always,
Alyssa (Phineas, Arlo, Fifi, and Mang)