We will never get to know how great it could have been, or how painful it might’ve ended. But what I do know is that part of me still hurts that I never had the guts to tell you how special you are. I hate that sometimes when I ask you how you’re feeling you say that it feels like a punch in the gut.
I want you to smile more partly because I think you’re even more beautiful when you do and partly because it also makes me smile. I feel awkward watching you sometimes because you enchant me and I learn a lot from being with you.
I think you’re incredibly talented, creative, genius, kind, adorable, loveable, and just all round wonderful. I’d never tell you this for fear of boosting your ego but I think we both know how much I really admire you.
I cherish every moment we had. Every insult, joke, compliment, and smile you threw my way (even the wet towels). I love you, I really do. Maybe not in a weird romantic way but a very platonic way. I’ll be forever grateful for the joyous feeling that your presence brought me. There’s a lyric by my favourite that says; honey I’ve missed ya, you’re like sunshine in the winter. And I think of you every time. Through the pit of it all you cared for me and I will always be grateful.
Take care of yourself, I hope you eat well and drink normal water the same rate you drink whisky. I hope you take a holiday at some point and feel some sunshine. Smell the fucking flowers and natural environment. Get out of that cold brick building and see the ocean.
Or not
I wish I knew all the things that made you happy. I wish I made you happy.
At first I thought I wanted you because I couldn’t have you (and the banter was fun). But I hope you know that I care for you so fucking much. I’d help you bury a body, lie to the cops, drink with you on any occasion, pick up your calls, make you pancakes, even play a stupid game.
Thank you.
I guess what makes this even more special is that despite the fact that you will never know, you still made me incredibly happy.
