June 1st
Dear Denali,
I did it. I broke up with her, and I feel less shit. She understood, she always does. It was good for a while, she made me feel something special again, but it wasn’t enough. After you, nothing is enough for me. There are people who can never be replaced, and It’s so hard for me to put you into words, Nali. Because I love you in ways I’ve never loved anyone else.
It’s you, Nali. It’s always you. Since the moment I met you. It’s you at 2 in the morning or 5 in the afternoon. It’s you when I’m sleeping and studying and eating and laughing. You’re everywhere and you’re everything. I just wish you can be here, now, with me.
You know? It's been almost a year since you’re gone, and I can barely remember the last time I saw you, because you never think that the last time is the last time. You think there will be more. You think you have forever, but you don’t.
I’m writing this to as I watch a picture of us that I have in my desk. Actually, there’s pictures of us all over my room. It’s sadly funny, because I used to take pics of you every time; when you were sleeping, playing with your dog, skating or just sitting there. And you kept asking me why I loved to take so many pics of you, and I didn’t have an answer at the time. But now that I think about it, it was like something deep inside me was aware that I would need those memories in the future. And here’s my answer of why I loved taking pics of you so much: they’re proof that once, even if just for a heartbeat, everything was perfect.
I haven’t said this in a long time now, but I’m still in love with you, Nali. Sometimes it’s not the butterflies that tell you you’re in love, but the pain.
Love, Rosie
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Letters - Rosénali
Hayran Kurgu"Grief, I've learned, is really just love. It's all the love you want to give, but cannot. All of that unspent love gathers in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and the hallow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to...
