Life is short.  It is fast and unforgiving.  
And in the time that we are given
- the time we are allotted to spend here on this planet -
we don't ask nearly enough questions.

No, not "who where why when how".

Questions that matter.

Will it rain tomorrow?
What's your name?
The first two things I said to your face.

We were younger then, and I didn't know that in a month's time
I would be asking you much more important things.

Like your favourite colour.
The songs that lift your spirits.
If I could be someone, anyone, to you.

And now.
We are where we are.
You have become to much more to me than I had ever dreamed,
and, as you had told me, time and time again, I to you.

Life is short, so I want you to know that I love you.
I love you more than "I love you" could ever say.

Life is fast, and I want to make these memories
-however virtual and electronic they may be -
last.

And life, above all, is unforgiving.
I will never be able to tell you what I want you to know.

I'm not so sure anymore that I will do anything worthwhile with the time I am given.
After all...
What kind of time would I be spending without you?