I wanted to tell you about the kind of music I’ve been listening to, how much it reminds me of you. You were right, the words are hardly as important as the melody and the way it makes me feel.
I wanted to let you know that I’ve been feeling less anxious about doing things I like, that I took your advice about doing shit just because I wanted to, because I can.
I wanted to say that I fucking miss you and that there isn’t a moment where your absence doesn’t gnaw at me from somewhere inside, I’m not quite sure where.
I wanted to tell you that things are different now and that although different might not necessarily be better, I’m not who I used to be. I guess I’m thankful for that.
I would’ve really liked for you to have known this new me, since you are largely responsible for her. I like to think that you are always with me, always watching, always smiling in that knowing way, always protecting.
I wanted to let you know that I love you, and that I know now what that means. I don’t ever want to treat you like a memory, because a memory has little place in the present beyond momentary acknowledgement. I’m realizing that a bond like ours doesn’t unravel in the face of something as meager as distance or time or reality.
I wanted to tell you that I’ll always be yours, whether or not you existed.