Letter 19

30 4 11
                                    


damn. i've been writing these for, like, three months. you've been in the coma for 68 days. it's already too much. i miss you, you know. a lot. i miss you so much, it kills me. it kills me not knowing the future. it kills me not knowing why. it kills me not knowing the answers to so many questions. i don't know what to do, gabby. i really don't.

prom is soon. meaning graduation is, too. i'm leaving after that. i'll be off to miami before i leave for university. i'm hoping you'll be awake before i leave, but the odds are starting to get thinner. you've not gotten better nor have you gotten worse, and it's just... not looking well for you, i guess. but i'm trying, gabby. i'm trying not to give up hope, to be strong for you, to be okay without you.

in case you don't wake up before i leave, i want you to know that i love you. i loved you when i first laid eyes on you, i loved you when you pushed me away, i love you now, and i'll always love you. even if you never love me back, even if i, someday, fall in love with someone else, a part of me will always love you.

i don't doubt it, and that's how i know that what i feel for you is real. it's not puppy love.

i love you the real kind of love, gabriella anderson.

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have you ever been in love?

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