Mieszko, sorry I couldn't come to your funeral, but I know you'd think I'd be better off touring.

I'm glad we came as close as we did, these hours spent in a hotel bar in Tokyo, in a sauna in Jönköping, on stage in Berlin or in a hotel bed in London. I'm glad you made me eat when I wasn't hungry. I'm glad you got me on my feet when I was depressed; you made me laugh so many times at so many things. You could see the fun in everything. You lived life to its fullest every day. I'm happy you let me stay at your house through these years. I appreciate you showing me what unconditional "mi casa - su casa" really means. You gave generosity a new meaning.

I told you many times, in many ways I love you, remember? I think of you first time in the morning and last time before I fall asleep. But it's hard to sleep these days, I dream of you often and in my dreams you're alive and laughing.

I still pick up the phone to call you just to ask if you think we'll go to Japan soon or if that drummer still sucks or how to install that game or about a riff I forgot and I sit there with the phone in my hand and I remember there is no one on the other side of the line.

I still talk about you as if you were still here and then I remember you're not.

I always thought I would be the one waiting on the other side for you, you were immortal to me, to all of us, but life is unpredictable to say the least.

I can't write more now, it hurts too much to do this and I can't stop crying.

Love you forever, Jon

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