Because It's You

I don’t know. Maybe it’s just me. But when I look at your picture, I have a hard time believing your not here. I feel like I could just pick up the phone and call you. I just have to wait a while at my computer and then your screen name will pop up and I know I’m in for a poetic conversation revolving around Billy Joel. It’s not possible for you to be dead. It’s a silly idea, really. Because I look at this picture of you at your Sweet 16, decked out like it’s 1986, and your smiling and laughing and getting ready to blow out the candles on your cake…. And I look at this picture, and I know you’re not dead. I know you’re not, because you can’t be. Because if you were, I’d have nothing left. You’re smiling and laughing and flaunting your Michael Jackson dance moves. You’re surrounded by your friends, happy as can be. You’re looking fabulous all the time.

Because you’re fabulous, and beautiful, and smart, and crazy. You’re one of the most amazing young women I’ve ever known, and I’m so glad that I’ve known you. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on, and my life is forever changed because of you. Your heart is so big, and your eyes are so blue, and I could cry just looking at you. Because you mean that much to me. Because I love you so, so much.

It’s hard to concentrate when all I can think about is you. Your beautiful smile, your cute hair, your silky skin and your eyes… I’ve never seen eyes like yours before. The way they pierce into my soul, like they can see everything about me, my darkest secrets and the lies I tell. Your eyes see right through me, and yet you still stuck around. You still wanted to be with me, even though you knew who I was and what I’d done.

You’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever known, and I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. I want you more than anything. I want to feel the softness of your hair, smell the sweet aroma that you wear so highly, and taste your warm lips. Just once more. Even if it’s just one night.

It’s been one-hundred and fifty days since June 17th. But I’m not counting.

I love you more than I can describe. And I can’t move on, but I’m trying. I want to be happy, and I think I am for the most part. But I miss you, and I want you. Because you mean the world to me. Because the last time we spoke, I told you I loved you. And I never got to hear your response.
-Shayna