It hurts. It will always hurt. And I only want you, always you, to touch the places that hurt the most.

I have lived my whole life feeling oddly envious without any escape. I envy that ‘someone’ who gets the chance to see and hold you, talk to you, and be with you after a bad day. I envy that ‘someone’ who hugs and kisses you goodnight every time you go to bed at night. I envy that ‘someone’ who showers you good morning kisses and who gets the chance to watch you smile as you open your eyes each morning.

How lucky that ‘someone’ who hears you sing a love song. Who dances with you in a crowd. Who sits across from you at a table, smelling that brew black coffee while listening to the tweeting of the small birds and staring at the mark of brilliant reds and oranges below the horizon. How lucky is that someone?

It’s true, I never have a life that most people pray for because I am a woman who is alone in bed at night, who cries until the birds of dawn pick away the debris of darkness.

I am a woman who smiles to cover up so much pain. Who lies about being fine.

I am a woman who honestly admits that I will die alone watching you smile and hold hand with someone else in photographs I will not be in.

I am a woman who wishes, hopes and prays of holding you and feeling you as you fall asleep beside me.

But I want you to know that my love for you isn’t lost in me. I will conserve it so I could have something to carry me through the period of aloneness.

I want you to know that even the city skyline has been tainted forever. That’s how I love you.

Please know that I’m not going to forget you. It’s your familiar grin and your lovely stare that keeps my smile and love you even more.

You were never mine and will never be, but I want you to know that I love you from the bottom of my heart and will always be loving you from a distance.