Dear Alaska,

It has been exactly three years since you have passed away. I still remember your scent: a smell of cigarettes and grass with a hint of vanilla. A lot of things have changed in these years. The colonel and I graduated last summer, would you ever imagined that. We are both going to college. The colonel is attending the university of north Alabama and I am attending Auburn university. But I have to admit, my last years at Culver Creek were not as fun without you. The Colonel focused more on his studies so he could go to college. Lara and Takumi are a couple now and they spent a lot spent a lot of time together. And me? Well I am still waiting for you. I hope when I finish this letter that I'm over you, but I know that's never going to happen.

I often repeat our moment when you (finally) kissed me. we played truth or dare, and you dared me to make out with you. I remember that moment exactly. Your soft lips on mine. Your taste of cigarettes, mountain dew, wine and chap stick. I still question myself why you asked me to kiss you? To be continued was the last question you ever asked me. And in that moment I really thought you loved me back. But then something happened and I wasn't that sure at all anymore.

The morning after your car accident, the eagle came knocking on our door. I thought I needed to hide the alcohol and cigarettes, but when I opened the door his look was very serious. He told us to go to the gym and in that moment I thought we got caught. But now I wish that had happened. The announcement of the Eagle at the gym was much worse than that. The Colonel and I, we felt so responsible for your death. The first few days after your accident, we did not talk much. We were so stupid to let you drive in the middle of the night while you were drunk. It didn't even cross my mind to tell you that you shouldn't drive after drinking. I was too caught up in the moment before. We felt so responsible and we could not tell anyone of that night. I remember vaguely that I heard the phone in the hall ringing, but I was to sleepy to be aware of it. That moment after I remember really well. you came back in tears and you screamed that you had to go away. You were so determined, and we both thought had to do with Jake and that you were upset about something he said.

Me and the Colonel talked to the police officer whose car you crashed into. He said that you didn't even slow down when you saw the lights of the car. We knew you were drunk, but you were not that drunk to miss the red and blue lights of the police car. We are still confused why you are dead. Maybe you wanted to kill yourself, but why would you do that Alaska? It still makes no sense.

I was always afraid to tell you the truth. But after these three years I can finally write it down: I love you Alaska Young. More than anyone in this world. It hurts me that you will never find out that I loved you. It hurts me when I think about you. About the things that could have happened if you were still alive. I would have told you that I loved you, and maybe you would have told me that you loved me too. But that will never happen.

But it hurts even more that I will never know your last words. I still have your favorite book, that one about the labyrinth. At one page you wrote down: straight and fast. I think that's how you got out of your labyrinth, straight and fast. And I think I found my way out of the labyrinth too. My labyrinth of suffering about you. And I'm going to tell you straight and fast: I forgive you Alaska. I forgive you that you are dead and I know you would forgive me for letting you go. And I forgive myself for letting you go. I will always love you Alaska Young and no one could ever be as good as you were. You will always be in my mind, but I think now is the time I should let you go.

Goodbye,

Pudge