I’m scared that for the rest of my life I’ll always believe that, if we ever managed to get the timing right, we would have one of those special loves that people talk about. No matter how much time goes by, I think about you, and I still get that weird flip in my stomach when you send me a message or we chat. It’s probably all so built up in my head that, if it did happen, it would be a horrible mess, but I think you’ll always be there. I wish you were here. I wish I could talk to you.
