Memories have a special way of either making us smile or ache, and while most people would say that they should make us smile, I’m afraid the memories we shared together would always make me ache. Because you see, I’m always going to miss you.

I’m always going to miss how everything about us started – like the quote, slowly and then all at once. I’ll miss how our story began as two complete strangers who met, and whose connection was completely and undeniably strong. I’ll miss getting to know you one day at a time, while realizing that we were two souls bound to be together. I’ll miss all our firsts – our first date, our first out of town trip, our first touch, and our first kiss. I’m always going to miss all these firsts, but one day I’ll meet someone I’m spending all my lasts with.

I’m always going to miss your eyes, for in them my world used to lie. I’ll miss the hazel in your eyes but more than the color, I’ll miss the love I feel through them. I’ll miss feeling that everything you say or do was true because I see it in your eyes. I’ll miss looking at them as I wake up and knowing that there’s no other eyes in the world that I’d rather look at every morning. I’m always going to miss your eyes, but I’m going to see more clearly now.

I’m always going to miss the way you smell, for in the closeness we shared it’s everything that lingers in my memory. I’ll miss the smell of your perfume and your own smell, and how I could spend hours buried in your neck, wondering how life could be more comfortable. I’ll miss the feeling of belonging, and of belonging to you. I’m always going to miss your smell, but I’ll continue breathing.

I’m always going to miss your hands, for when our fingers intertwine, I knew I was safe. I’ll miss the way you take my hand at random moments, and kiss it to remind me that I am loved. I’ll miss the way our fingers rubbed in silence, as if they play their own little game. I’ll miss the way we held hands, and I’ll miss how warm yours were against my pale, always-cold palm. I’m always going to miss your hands, but for now I’ll try to fight the coldness.

And although it pains me to think about it, I’m always going to miss the last moments we spent together. At that time I didn’t know that it’ll be our last memory because if I had known, I should have at least made it count. I should’ve held your hand longer, loved you that night harder, and hugged you a little bit tighter. I’m always going to miss you and the last time I was with you, but I hope someday when I look back at it, I realize that it was – albeit bittersweet – nothing but a beautiful memory.

Yet above all these, what I’m always going to miss is your love. I’ll miss your love that was once warm, once overflowing, once enduring. I’ll miss your love that taught me how much more capable I am of loving – a love that’s giving and most of the time selfless, one that’s true and patient. I’ll miss your love that once made me feel the happiest person in the world, your love that once let me know that sheer happiness is possible. I’ll miss your love that now made me realize that I am a beautiful person, one that’s deserving of a love that lasts and a love that never leaves. I’m always going to miss your love, for it was my home, but today I say that I’m going to be okay.

Maybe it’s not our time. Maybe – sadly – we weren’t really meant to be together. Or maybe, just maybe, our story simply wasn’t one with the universe in this lifetime. And maybe that’s okay. After all, you and I have always been yin and yang, pop and indie, sunrise and sunset. We were two different individuals who learned to embrace our differences. We were pieces from two different puzzles. And we have to realize that sometimes, when two puzzle pieces come together, there’s only two things that can happen: it’s either they fit perfectly or imperfectly that one day they break apart.

Nevertheless, my love, thank you for everything – for the memories, the happiness, and even the heartache. I’m never going to forget you and I’m always going to miss you, but you’re going to live forever in me anyway, so I’m going to be okay.