he stared at the worn, loved journal. breathless. he knew the girl whom it belonged to, but he gingerly lifted its leather cover anyways. his eyes fell on the first page, covered in familiar, neat handwriting. swallowing, he began to read the words.
“I miss you.
There’s no other way to put it.
I miss you from the bottom of my heart, and with all of my broken pieces. I miss you so much and so intensely that it feels as if the sky caved in on me and drenched me with all of its glittering stars. I miss your soft eyes, your soothing voice, and your strong arms as they embraced me. You didn’t know it, but when you held me, you held my whole world together. I knew falling in love with you, of all people, was a dangerous risk. But you hugged me so tightly that all my broken pieces stuck back together. You loved me so fiercely until all I saw was you; all I thought of was…
And now, watching you look at her the way you looked at me. It feels as if the wispy, gray clouds have enveloped me in their haze of sadness. No, not sadness. What I feel is more than sadness. It’s as if the sun has refused to shine, and the moon no longer illuminates the velvety darkness of the still night. It’s like living life without laughter; living in a world without color.
I don’t want to miss you. But I do. Not missing you is as impossible as breathing without air. It’s a feeling that is always present, no matter how occupied I am.
So if you ever read this, I hope you know how much and how deeply I loved you, and still do. I miss you, and it cuts me to know that you aren’t missing me back.”
– november 2016 / 8:07 pm.
the boy let out a shuddering sigh, laid the journal down, and looked at the gravestone with the familiar name etched onto it.
“I miss you too…” he whispered. “But now it’s too late.”