dear [ ],
i remember writing you letters. it always hurt like hell to write my hand got so tired. but i wrote and wrote and wrote. my hand smudged the green gel pen i used. i didn't know what else to do, so i wrote. i gave you the only thing i know how to give (or perhaps the only thing i knew then). i gave you my words. and yet in all of those words and all of those days writing i never said i love you.
well even if it's too late i love you. do you hear me? your name meant life. i miss watching sports with you. i miss you. can you hear me? maybe you can't. maybe a name isn't everything.
you don't expect to wake up and be told that someone you loved is dead. you don't expect to wake up and know they're gone and know that all you can do is keep writing and remember you never told them i love you.
your name meant life but you didn't even get a chance at one. oh, i miss you. it's too late but i love you. i wish i had told you. i wish you had lived.
my green gel pen is still on my desk.
i love you,
[ ]
