'our' friends tell me I'll stop feeling your loss so sharply with time, but I don't believe them. It's been almost a year now that I'm living this half life - alive when I block out your absence, lost when I'm forced to remember.
When I go to the shops my first thoughts are still about whether you'd like this, whether that would make you happier.
Sometimes I'll come back to the empty house that used to be home and call out that I got something for us, though it would always be for you, and the silence crushes me every time.
God I wish you were here, or I were there. I didn't end my life before I met you because I didn't see any reason to believe the afterlife would be any better, but now I can't shake the feeling that any plane of existence with you in it would be infinitely better than anything this hollow life has to offer.
A house filled with things I bought to make you happy, all reminders of a smile I'll never see again.
I wish I could pretend you were still here forever.
Never remember, never be reminded.
Even if it's fake, if it's the only version of you I can get then that's what I'll take and cherish, because even your shadow is brighter than the sun, and even the memory of your scent is enough to keep me from collapsing entirely.
I should have known better really.
Dad always told me love bred dependence and vulnerability, and he was right.
You were my one and only, my first hand held, my first kiss, my first love, hell, my first hug. You're all I've ever had, all I never knew I wanted, and now you're all I wish I had back. I'd give my eyes for a glimpse of you, my hands to feel your touch, my life to be wherever you are.
I need you.
I can't believe how cruel fate was to take you [spoiler:lit] without taking me with you [/spoiler:lit]