Do you still think of me? I still think of you. Every day. I hope you know my intentions were always pure. I was just too fucked-up inside to really stay with you on that level of clarity. I’d see the clarity in your face and I’d go, “Oh, right!” I had simply forgotten the vibration of life.
Something so damaged in my core felt the exquisite touch of your love, and grew hungry for it beyond all reason. I just want to feel your head on my chest again, as I hold you.
I know I won’t see you again, and you probably will never see this. I’m just sentimental, and I’ll always be madly in love with you.