June 30,

Today I woke up in a relatively good mood. I drove to your house. Your car was there, so I just walked in. I really hadn't been thinking about how sick you were, I was just happy to visit. You opened the door. God, you're beautiful, I wish I could have told you. Your smile was really all I could take in at the moment. The dark circles under your eyes hadn't marred any part of your beautiful self. When you collapsed on the floor, I had no idea what to do. When I called the ambulance, they said it was too late. I ran all the way home. Well, they're lying. You'll come back, right?

July 2,

I apologize for not writing to you the past few days. You left me, and I can't really think about anything else. I went to your flat today. I'm sorry that I broke everything. I slept in your bed, with the shirt you wore the night we met. I still can't quite get a handle on my emotions, but it's okay. I'm holding on to the time we'll see each other again.

July 3,

Today they had your funeral. Stupid, right? They don't know that you're coming back. Everyone cried. I cried, because I miss you. When you come back, I'm never letting you leave ever again. Okay? When I cried, they all tried to comfort me. I just pushed them away and drove back to your flat. I'm writing this in your room. In about thirty minutes, they're going to lower you into the ground. I'm not going to watch, but when you get back, tell me how the dirt is, okay? I miss and love you.

July 5,

I didn't write you yesterday. Sorry, I was asleep. Today, your sister came over. She brought over some food. It's sitting in my fridge, I'm still not hungry.

You haven't come back yet, and I'm starting to wonder if you remember when you told me that you'd always be here for me. Well, you did, so come back.

July 6,

I went to your flat today. You didn't answer again. Where are you? I think maybe, you aren't coming back. Can I come visit you? I found broken glass in your bedroom. It wanted me to hurt myself with it, but I didn't. Don't worry.

July 27,

You aren't coming back. You would have been back by now. I'm mad at you. I don't know why. I'm sorry. I still love you, but I'm angry that you left and you didn't bring me with you. Your mother came over. I'm still not hungry. She took me to the hospital, and now they're putting me on some sort of I.V. You had to be here all the time. I hate it here. I hate how sometimes, when I would visit you here, it smelled like death. I hate how you would come home, and your hugs smelled like death. I hate everything right now. But not you, I love you.

July 30,

I keep forgetting what day it is. I watched an old video of us goofing around. Your voice is like a sedative.

August 1,

Thanks for visiting me in my dreams last night. I had a dream you were coming back, and I had to prepare for you. Nobody believed me, that you were coming back.

August 2,

Sometimes, when I'm going through everyday life, I hear you voice. It's like you're teasing me, singing, and stopping, because you know you're unreachable, and you love that. I miss you still.

August 4,

Yesterday I made a stupid decision. I drank until I passed out. When I woke up, you were still gone. I like the feeling of being non-existent. Do you like it so much that you've left me for good?

August 8,

I drink all day. Everyday. Yesterday, I decided I would exist for a while and make sure you hadn't travelled back to reality. I'm out of liquor. I miss you, beautiful.

August 11,

I want to die. You aren't coming back. You know that too. I, however, am stuck here in living hell. I hope I don't make you feel guilty. Frankly, I feel guilt for being so selfish. You deserve an escape. Too bad it's eternal.

August 12,

Today I succumbed to the temptation of the glass. I watched it drag across my arm, I watched the blood seep out onto the floor, and I made a decision. I will be more awake, and alert, for every pain that life throws at me. I won't try to drown out the emotion with liquor. I'm going to take the pain.

August 14,

I'm struggling. My heart is constantly waging war against reality. Slowly but surely, reality is setting in. I know now I'll never see you again. You were perfect. Your flaws were beautiful, and I loved you for them. I still love you.

August 15,

The 'what if' questions are paralyzing my every move. What of you came back? What if I could have saved you? What if it were me, leaving, rather than you? What if you were still here? You're all I think about, dawn till dusk. And in between those hours, the captivity of my emotions haunts me. I cry. I haven't spoken a word since your departure. I guess my soul is struggling with my lips. I wanted you to have my first words. I guess that won't ever happen. I love you.

August 17,

Today I cannot bear it any longer. I feel as though, you've taken the part of me I needed to survive. I think my heart will cave in from the trauma your departure has set inside me. I love you.