Dear Nala:

Every morning is like a fresh new wave of hurt.  I always miss something specific.  This morning, I really miss you making fun of me.  

I miss you calling me out on how I write on paper.  You'd always say I look like Jimmy Fallon doing his "Thank You Notes."  You'd mimic it and be smiling the biggest smile the entire time.

You'd make fun of me for saying "Go 'hed," and proceed to tell me who else does it too.  

You'd make fun of the way the way I'd move my feet when we'd be relaxing on the couch.

You'd make fun of the way I'd fold my boxers (but you'd proceed to pair up all of my socks and fold them).

You also make fun of the way I'd fold anything else, especially my white undershirts.  

You'd always be the first person to call me out on anything that was funny or ironic, and I love the way you did it, every time.  You could make me smile or laugh effortlessly, and I miss this terribly about you.  I miss the way you'd interact with me so much.

I love you, Nala.  So very much.  Please let me know you still know this.

Sincerely,

Your Simba