Hey,

I know you will never read this. Of course you won't, you're not around anymore. You decided that we no longer belong together, and a part of me agrees with you. We hurt each other too much, said too many things we shouldn't have said, and just possibly met at the wrong time, when we were both too hurt to give each other the best versions of ourselves. And the most heart-breaking part of it all is that maybe, in another world, another life, different life, we were meant for a happy ending. But not here. Not this time. Not this life. That hurts me more than you can probably imagine. I'm haunted by what we could have had.

Moving across half a continent to be with you was supposed to be my good ending. It was supposed to be the rest of my life. I was supposed to marry you. We were meant to be each other's forever. After a lifetime of pain, disappointment, and being left out in the cold, we were like kindred souls, finally at peace. Together. I still remember how beautiful you were when I saw you. How your gorgeous hair blew in the wind. How beautiful your smile was. How I couldn't stop staring at you and that adorable little gap between your teeth.

Even amongst our darkest days, I still remember the joy and the wonder we brought into each other's lives. I miss our little charades in the morning. The weird faces and accents we used to do. The smell of fresh pastries. Being amazed by your art every time I saw it. Watching Twin Peaks together. Staring into each other's eyes.

Now I'm just left with ghosts of our relationship. Memories long gone. Promises unfulfilled. Plans of a different life. Joys of distant yesterdays. Unprepared and unready to face whatever lies ahead, if anything. This wasn't ever meant to happen. Not in a hundred lives was I ever meant to lose you. Nor you me. But we're lost to each other. Probably forever. And forever without you sounds heart-breaking.

So I live on. Unsure as to what I'm meant to do, unsure as to where I am meant to go, and unsure as to whom I am meant to love. I don't want to, or need to, love anyone else. I love you. I think a part of me always will. And I think about you always. Do you still paint? How do you spend your days? Have you managed to find the best croissants in town? How did you feel when Kissinger finally died? Do you ever think of me, and are you ever haunted by all this?

I hope you find the peace you are looking for, even if without me. I'm still here. As we used to say, the light no longer works, but there's still something inside. My light got dimmer since I lost you. But I hope there's still something inside of me. And I hope nobody ever dims your light.