Dear Ashton,

3.

Dear Ashton,

Michael came to see me today. We walked to the park and he'd asked if I heard from you.

When I said I hadn't he cut off all further conversation involving you.

Which is quite difficult Ash.

I remember running my fingers threw your hair. Tugging and pulling playfully now and then just to bug you.

You'd do the same but pull on the ends so it would hurt me more.

Then we'd just call mercy and laugh with each other.

I don't know why I'm torturing myself with thinking of you. Of us. Of us being happy.

It only kills me more.

But that pain is all I have to know you were actually here. To know you actually existed in a life with me.

That you actually loved me.

Do you still love me?

I love you.

Love, Riley.