So now I sit here for you every year, John. Like the fool I am, reminiscing every memory I have with you in it. And I regret, sometimes I chuckle, and very often, I cry. But if I'm going to waste my tears, I'm confident in wasting them on you. I'm sorry for not being there when you were so clearly struggling. I'm sorry for wasting precious days because we argued, or fell out, or 'grew up'. I'm sorry for never telling you how much I really do love you. I cannot put into words how sorry I am.