My Unsent Letter

"You can love someone so much, but you can never love people as much as you can miss them"

I miss you so much that it hurts. I don't know what to do with this love I have for you; it's overflowing now that you're gone. I'm pouring it into my music, scribbling it down in poetry and fragments of prose but it still seeps out of every laugh, ever tear, every spoken or written memory.

I don't know what to do with this abundance of feeling I have for you. So for the third time, I'm pouring it out onto an anonymous website. Hoping you'll read it. Knowing you won't.

I don't know what to do with all of the random details I know about you. The way you love being pranked and teased. The way your eyes sparkle wickedly, teasingly, and your grin lights up the room. The few random things you have a deep aversion to. Or the obscure things most people never notice that always entertain you. The fact that you're not afraid to tell people you like them. The fact that people don't often return that kindness back to you. The fact that I did.

The fact that you think the world of me. The fact that I think the world of you.

The fact that I'm not sure when I'll see you again.

I don't know what to do with myself now that you're not here. I'm trying to live a life you'd be proud of, so that when we finally reunite one day we can sit down and talk and laugh at old inside jokes and I'll have stories to tell and maybe, just maybe, there might still be a flicker of the chemistry we have now.

But for now, my friend... look after yourself. It's been a privilege.