I can still feel your hand on my shoulder, resting so delicately like a flower petel. I can feel your presence at my back, like sunshine casting warmth on a fall day. I can hear your voice, one of my most favorite melodies. I am drunk from our memories, engrossed by them, tortured by them.
I keep telling myself I need to tear myself away from what was, but I’m so afraid to stop writing about us. It’s the only presence that I have of you now. I just need some more time to accept this. It felt like a terrible dream, but each day it becomes increasingly real. I never let you read my many journals, I’ve kept them very secret, despite the many pages about you. But, I suppose that world I kept from you is exposed here, at least the crumbling bits that are left of it. I just wish I would’ve let you see that world in a happier time. Perhaps what it felt like to finally buy the ring. Or, how it felt to be madly in love with someone as wonderful as you. Maybe you wouldn’t have questioned my love. It’s a sunny day today, just like the day we first met.