I'm here, late at night. And I can't get you out of my mind. It hurts. Physically hurts.
I'm reading, and the slightest detail reminds me of you.
Sometimes I wonder if I could write stories of the memories we had,
Maybe you wouldn't be able to forget me then.
You were my best friend. My everything, my light at the end of the very dark tunnel.
One fight ruined everything.
I'm sorry that I was oblivious to the fact that you wanted to get stationed in California for me.
The moment that we met, the world wanted us apart. If it didn't, you would be right here, next to me. Or making plans to see me in 8 months.
That was our plan right? For me to finally see your gorgeously blue eyes in person, for me to admire your first tattoo, in person.
To enjoy a cigarette or a cigar, together. And I would only say yes to it because cigars were your preference. Weed is mine, and maybe the occasional cigarette, which I turn to on nights like this.
We planned our first night together.. it was pretty explicit, but I wanted nothing more than that with you.
But you won't even pick up the phone. And I've apologized.
But if I'm honest, I don't know why I'm apologizing for being honest about how I felt when you turned to her for comfort.
We both knew that the comfort you found were in her pictures, and not her words.
My words were the ones who were where for you, for years. 7 now, and I am never getting those back, but truthfully I wouldn't have it any other way.
I can't stop thinking about you
I wish you were here, with me. Right here. Now.
Because I miss your voice.
The way that you would talk to me, to coax me out of my tears, and calmly into my pillow. Even though you had to get up early, and you were three hours ahead of me.
I can't stop thinking of you, because I will endlessly adore you.
Even when you no longer adore me.
I'm sorry for getting hurt.
Even though you'll never apologize for not telling me sooner that you lost interest.
Goodnight.
