To:

I know you'll never get this letter. But I wanted to say thank you. And I miss you.

I'm being melodramatic, I know. It's only been a couple of days. But it's not like that for me. It's been years.

Only now, when you're away, do I have the strength to say this: I've been waiting for you. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. From that day we met two years ago, I wanted to know you. I wanted to spend every simple second with you.

It never mattered what we were doing, only if you were there.

Maybe it seemed like nothing to you. I almost hope it did. I always hope it didn't.

Don't you understand that I've never felt this way? Don't you understand this sinking feeling, this beautiful, wrong, perpetual, ugly feeling?

No, I guess you wouldn't understand. Nevermind, you shouldn't. I don't expect you to love me back.

So. How have you been, without me? Is it even any different?

The crumpled note flew through the air and hit the rim of the trash can.

It bounced, then fell onto the ground.

No one moved to pick it up.