It's not Friday but would you mind if I write you my thank you note?

Dear Jimmy Fallon,

It's somewhat knowing I'll be made fun of but it's from the heart that this is written. Let's get past the whole madness of crushing on celebrities when this is about so much more than that.

This is about a heartfelt thank you.

Thank you for getting me through countless sleepless nights. Especially that one.

It's been two months since my dad passed away. I guess it's easier to vomit feelings and facts in a different language than the one he and I shared.

It's been two months since I got home to find him inanimate on the couch, probably gone for an hour before we found him.

It's been two months since my knees hurt from being kneeled on the ground trying to get him back to life.

It's been two months since my hands hurt from being in the same position so long:

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.

And repeat.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.

 And repeat.

I guess I don't remember everything. I guess part of me is really scared of remembering everything that happened that fateful evening.

I remember people. I remember how much my mom screamed kneeled to the floor next to me. I remember neighbours, friends. I remember feeling his body getting so cold as time passed by. I don't know how much of that is true but I've always heard that bodies go cold after one or two hours after they become just that: bodies. vessels. With every push on his chest I felt hope and rationality battling inside of me. I knew he was long gone but I kept going. I tried my best and I failed. Still now, still today, two months after, hope and rationality still battle inside me. I'm afraid I'll never be able to perform CPR on anyone else even though I know that there was nothing I could've done. The guilt of failing to bring my father back to life is too huge to deal with. So for now, I'm blocking it.

For now, the reality of it all is about juggling work and anxiety. I'm not going to lie and telling you it's been anything short from the hardest thing I've ever had to deal with. At least, that's exactly how it feels.

But I'm rambling right? This is about thanking you. For getting me through that sleepless night. Only the distraction of binge-watching The Tonight Show got me through darkness on that fateful February 18th, 2016. On nights like tonight, when it's been exactly two months, I do the same. I repeat.

The possibility of this ever getting to you is one in a million but I'm not worried. I think I'm doing this for me and that's what I have to do now: do things for me. Because life is fleeting. And it needs to be enjoyed.

So thank you. Thank you for making me laugh when I'm about to dive into the tunnel of hopelessness. Thank you for giving me an excuse to not sleep «yeah I'm not sleeping because I got too distracted watching Jimmy Fallon, not because my brain likes to keep me awake». Thank you for being a far away icon. A someone I'd like to thank someday. Life is about that too: thanking people who are there for you. Thanking the air you breathe. Thanking yourself for the strenght you get everyday to get up and get dressed.

I think somehow I'm still numb. I know I haven't dealt with all I had to go through. I know this and it's okay. I still have you, to make me forget about dark nights and give me an excuse to not sleep.

Sometimes I think I should be reacting more. Part of me is afraid of what that reaction might mean to my sanity. So let me share with you that whenever I'm thinking about unlocking my brain to the trauma I've been through, I dismiss it all for another Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I don't wanna deal with this ever. I just need to put it off just one more day. And as long as I'll need to put it off, I'll be resorting to you, to your wit, to your comedy.

I'm not a supporter of the whole «misery loves comedy» motto but I support that comedy becomes a nice whiskey for when you don't wanna be miserable.

I'm not sure why this was easier to write than every other text I've written in my mother language. I think it's because as I'm writting I'm thinking of the next skit from your show I'm going to enjoy.

I do believe the saying that goes «it doesn't hurt the ones gone, it hurts the ones who stayed». I stayed. I am staying day after day. It hurts. I think it will hurt a lot more. But this is a conversation that my brain and I will have another time. Tonight is not the night for that. Tonight is the night I'll go laugh at yet another hashtag or another lipsync battle.

So I'll be going now. One day I'm sure I'll get the chance to thank you in person. Until then, I'll get back to the darkness of my night and the comedy of a man who means nothing to me but got me through hell and back.