How could it already be 365 days? All I had with you was 3,155 days. Those days I replay in my head throughout the last 365, and for the rest of my life. Almost every moment accounted for.

But counting the days is irrelevent. Sure it makes me grateful, I’ll be grateful for the rest of my life. But as the next 365 lay out infront of me, I do not want to feel further from you.

Time does not make anything easier – people say and act like it does, but those people tell themselves that to escape the pain. If you ask me, the pain keeps me closer to you, so it’s pain I do not mind.

How can it hurt just like it was yesterday, but also feel like an entire lifetime ago? I guess that’s what love can do.

How can the sun still shine without you here? How dare the seasons continue, how dare life go on, how insensitive to live without you.  

But I know you are here with me – here with me in the bandana I carry around in my pockets, here like the bed I haven’t moved in 365 days, here looking up at me with those beautiful eyes, here in your radiant face I see in my dreams. 

Thank you for coming to visit me in my dreams like we talked about, P.

I knew at the time that nobody else did. I knew how to fight for you, I just didn’t know how to fix you.

Despite what people say, nobody will ever know the love we had, the destiny of it all, the pain of it. I would break my heart in every lifetime if it meant having it whole again for another 3,155 days.

There are simply no words to magnify the love or even the melancholy. There is no poem I could read or write to make me feel better. 

There are no gestures to be done, no celebratinos to be had, no ceremonies or prayers. There is only the true definition of bittersweet – the joy to have had you, and the devestation to have lost you.

My heart and soul are only better because of you, my sweet Prada girl. I love you forever, though forever is never enough.

“….my love, I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity” -The Fault in Our Stars