I wanted to be there for you. I wanted to hold you underneath the stars, to kiss you in the rain, to love you for every second of everyday until I died. I wanted to wake up next to you every morning and look forward to spending another day with you. I wanted you and I to burn brighter than the sun, as only those truly in love can. I wanted perfection – and I had it.

I had you. My love, my life, my reason. You were perfection, you were brilliance. A star shining in the darkness of the universe, waiting, waiting, and I grabbed you, held you to my chest and loved and loved and loved with everything I was, am, will be.

But you didn't understand. You said you'd die for me. That wasn't what I wanted, no – I wanted you to live for me, should I die, disappear, and leave you alone. Did you not understand that everything I did, every breath, every word, was for you? And I told you, with your naïve eyes and your cheeky smile that was innocent to understand the true depth of my words. You smiled at the words, not the meanings – even though the meanings were so, so much more important - and I died a little inside.

"Believe," you said, eyes bright and shining, holding my hands in yours. "Just believe in Us, our future. Think of what we could do…"

And I wanted to, I really did. Just because I didn't have your blind faith doesn't mean that I had no faith at all. There were moments when I saw you waver, because blind devotion is just not enough to stay strong when doubt strikes, but you pulled through, using that stubborn belief of yours to work miracles. I like to think that I was a constant in it all – I tried to be there always, when you text me in the night, I'd text you back; when I had no money for the bus and my parents weren't around, I'd cycle three miles to your house, no matter if it was raining or sunny – but even consistency runs thin in the face of emotions.

"Trust me," I said. "This is for you."

Do you remember the first time I kissed you? I couldn't help myself, so I held you and didn't let go. I'd do anything for you, I told you, I'd let the universe burn if it meant you could smile. I meant that.

So it comes down to this. You're dying. Don't speak, please, don't make this harder. I already know what I'm going to do; you won't change my mind, not that I'll tell you until the end, even if I do then.

You tell me about the transplant – your heart is failing. I sit next to you, hold your hand and try not to cry. Trying to be strong. Failing, but it's okay. You're not dead yet and there's always time to fix a broken heart, I say as they tell me visiting hours are over. So I kiss you on your cheek and come visit you as early as I can tomorrow, because I don't need school; I need you. The end is coming and I haven't got enough time to tell you how much I love you, maybe because there aren't enough words, maybe because I'm too scared.

The day comes.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

They take you away and I stare and stare and stare, memorising your face, your eyes, your smile before the end. Then I follow them, to a white room. I get changed into one of their surgery robes.

"Are you sure?"

I nod. I've never been surer of anything in my life.

You said I had so much to live for.

You were wrong – I lived for you. And now I hope you live for me.