Dear Missing,
It’s been three months now. I still reach for you sometimes when I wake up in the morning. Some habits will die harder than others, as we learned.
I never really have nightmares. No, that would be too easy. My punishment is far greater, for every night I dream that you are still alive. Every night I see your smile and hear your laugh, see your pretty face and your blond hair. And every morning, when I wake, you die again.
The most fucked up part is that I don’t remember the last time that I told you I loved you, so I will tell you now.
What can I say about the way you came into my life? It was like a car crash- violent, unexpected, beautiful in that sick way that makes it so you just can’t help but to stop and watch. My brain splattered on the windshield with no desire to put it back in my skull, so long as my heart was still beating.
We would stay in bed all day with the curtains closed. It really wasn’t hard to shut the world off with you in my arms. Right away it became clear that I didn’t need rent money, shelter, food. Your soul would house me and your heart feed me.
I always tried to live a life without regret but I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t regret the way that you had to go, how I lost you, how the world lost you. You were so young and so beautiful, and every day I wish that it was me lying on that cold floor in your stead.
And so I may never be able to touch your pretty face or smell your hair again. And I may never hear that laugh outside of my dreams. But know that I will never forget you, that I will always carry the joy you gave me everywhere I go. I promise to hold on to that hope you gave me. And I promise not to die in the way that you did. So long as I continue to hold you in my heart I will know that some part of you will always survive. Life may end but know that my love for you is as permanent as anything in the universe.
Forever and always,
Still here.
When you are cold,
I will give you my cigarette to keep you warm.
When you feel alone,
Know that I am alone with you.
And when the day runs too long,
I’ll cover your eyes and tell you it’s night.
When you say that you are leaving,
I’ll pack your bags, and mine as well,
so that I may go with you.
For wherever you go, and wherever you’ve been,
remember, it’s not what you’ve done, heard,
or seen.
It’s all a matter of who you know.
And you know you’ll always know me.
