Dear Mr. Trump:

I hope this letter finds you and your family doing well. After writing these words, I have to confess to you, for sake of honesty, that only today I find myself able to write to you with such kindness. If I would have talked with you last week, when I was struggling under a ventilator, I would have been very angry and rude with you. But now, that is over, and I can be kind to you.

I apologize that, in just the few above sentences, I have already mentioned to you two concepts with which you are unfamiliar with their practical application: honesty and kindness. I am sure that, deep inside, you are aware of the lack of honesty you have displayed during your entire business life, because you have taken advantage that honesty and lawfulness do not always coincide. But you are so weak that you would never recognize this to anybody. However, the kindness part may confuse you, so allow me to explain. The only person you have ever been kind to is to yourself. I am sure you have been charming while closing a business deal or wooing your three wives. But being charming and being kind are different things too, even if this distinction is too subtle for an unsophisticated person like you to understand it.

I was faithful to my wife during 31 years of marriage, and here I have to apologize again, because I am mentioning loyalty, another foreign notion to you. But now I try not to visit her, because seeing her makes me so deeply sad and, even worse, completely powerless. But, at some moments I am not strong enough to restrain myself, and then I go to the home that used to be ours. Well, a few days ago, while seeing my wife, I watched you in her TV when you, very annoyed, screamed at an election rally “COVID, COVID, COVID”. At that moment I felt an intense empathy (sorry, another strange concept) toward you, as I realized that you were frustrated that, because of the pandemic, many voters that were going to vote for you have discovered how incompetent your pandemic response has been and instead were going to vote for Biden, as they eventually did. Your frustration is because your beautiful (a favorite word of yours) plan was going to slip through your fingers. Your plan was that, after four more years of your personal enjoyment of the pleasures of power, it would come the turn of Pence-Puppet, and you would have eight more years of calling the shots behind the scenes. Just in time for, immediately following, Donald Jr. to become president, being your oldest son, he would be the first one and, at 54 years old, perfect age, and then Ivanka, Eric, and finally Barron. In that order. So, including your tenure, direct and indirect, it would be 48 years of your family in power. A genuine dictatorship in America. Beautiful. After that, it would be the time for one of your grandkids to be president after Barron, because you want your family to break the record of 57 years of Fidel Castro as the longest-ruling dictator.

Well, Mr. Trump, the pandemic destroyed your awesome (another preferred word) plan, but we are in this tragedy together, because we have lost not only our plans, we have lost everything. You know, when I am not seeing my wife, I am in a place where, in just a few days, I have met people from all over the US and from all over the world. And we all feel terrible about all the events we are going to miss. We will not be able to participate in weddings, graduation ceremonies, fiestas de bautizos, wakes, birthday parties, walimas, backyard barbecues, baseball games, seijinshikis, music concerts, family trips, juwenalias. And so many, many other things. Now, people from other countries do not blame you, but all Americans blame you. After all, we believed you when you said, back in February and March “this is under control”, “this will be nothing more than the annual flu” and, “this will be gone when it gets hotter in the Spring”. We believed you when you said that we didn’t need to wear a mask. It got me really late, at least compared to other ten million infected fellow Americans, but I personally believed you when you said, just a few weeks ago “we are turning the corner” and your example when you faced and won over the virus, and I let my guard down.

Well Mr. Trump, I am sorry (I have already apologized to you four times) for writing such a long letter, I am sure that your mind is too busy in these days deciding with which blonde you want to cheat on Melania after you are relieved from the protocols and formalities of being president. Go ahead, you can do this without losing anybody from your base, they would forgive you if you shoot somebody dead in Fifth Avenue. I started this letter saying that, starting today, I have reached a state of peace that allows me to write kind words to you. However, I do not feel certain of my politeness if I ever were to see you in person. But, some people I have already met in this place in these past few days, people who are much more experienced than me, they have assured me that it will be impossible for you and me to meet face to face. They have explained me that, according to the rules, you already have a slot reserved in a place which temperature is just a little bit higher than the perfect and constant temperature we enjoy here.

Note: I am not a writer, not even a bad one. So, if a good writer wants to take this idea of a dead COVID patient writing a letter to Trump and writes a good one, I would be happy.