You are going away, and what will I do without you?
The role you’ve played in my life in the past year has grown bigger, in a way that I didn’t expect it to. You’ve been the person who held my hand and said, “Come with me, I want you there.” You’ve been the only person, at one point, who told me I was missed. I didn’t always listen to your advice, but you’ve been a good friend nonetheless. You never left me, unlike everybody else. You told me to be strong when I couldn’t, and I never could for myself. But for you I was.
You are one of the very, very, very few reasons that I’m trying not to forget. Because memories are painful, but you’re there and you’re part of it and I thought maybe I could keep these things because I want to remember you. But what do I do when you’re gone? Nothing’s going to tie those memories to me anymore. I have less reason to, when all I want to do is forget, forget, forget, and forget.
You are one of the few people I’d have stayed alive for. I would do anything for you. If I wanted to disappear because everything hurt, and if you said, “Stay,” I’ll stay. I’ll stay if you need me to. If you want me to.
You are one less hand I can hold.
You are one less hug I can give.
One less hug I can receive.
You are one less kiss on the cheek.
One less person to run to.
One less back to hide behind.
You are one less person I can trust.
I know you’re “just moving,” but it isn’t “just moving” anymore when there are fourteen hours of sea and land that separates my hand from yours, my arms from yours, me from you. And thinking about this makes the warm tears fall, because I will miss you, and I feel —
just a little lonelier without you.
I love you. Thank you for being the best person that you are. I hope I can see you again soon, and maybe by that time I’m not as fucked up anymore, and you can be proud of the person I’ve made myself into.