I just really need to put my emotions into words right now:

Sometimes, I still miss you.

I still miss all the hopes and dreams we shared, the memories and the littlest milestones. I’d smile to myself when I see things that brings back little snippets of inner jokes and scenes we once experienced. How bittersweet is this? Grateful for having these memories, sad that I no longer have you to reminisce them with.

I still miss hearing about your day, and making remarks that make you chuckle and roll your eyes, our goodnight routine and making plans for the future.

You’re a book that I’ve clearly finished but refuse to close and put down. Instead, I keep re-reading highlighted paragraphs, in disbelief that they were once real.