I love you. I won’t put it in past tense, even though you’re gone because I realise now that he was right, and she was right and everyone who I ever denied it to was right. I loved you then and I still love you now. My mum and my counsellor heard me talk about you over the phone and they both said that my voice lit up when I mentioned you.
You can’t imagine the joy you brought me when you were here. Just to be next to you was enough. To be honest, I dreamed that some day I’d be standing next to you at the altar. You’d have looked so perfect and I would have wondered how I ever got so lucky. You were well read and witty, and I liked the way that you’d compliment me in ways I wasn’t expecting, like the time I called you out on making fun of me for being short and you said that you really thought my height was perfect. Or the night you called me “baby”…you never did that.
I still don’t really know how you felt about me but it doesn’t matter now. I need to learn how to love you and still move on. It’s been nearly two years and I’m either going to kill myself or go insane with how much I miss you.