Dear Joseph,

It is 4:14 A.M. and I can’t sleep to save my life because, like always, I am up thinking about you. I miss you, I wish we still talked, I wish you still loved me, and I wish we were still a “we”. Because that’s all I have ever wanted. I wanted to be a “we” until we were grey-haired and old. You will always be it for me, the guy that I can never get enough of. I still love you with ever piece of the heart you broke. And if at any moment in time you want me back, I will go. Willingly.

Because even after everything we have been through, you still mean the world to me. You still make me weak in the knees, and every time I hear someone say your name, I look for you. Because for some dumb reason, I think you’ll be standing there. Even though I know you’re three thousand miles away in California, in love with someone else. And that hurts more than anything I can ever imagine. I was supposed to be the one you were always in love with. Remember, when you promised that nothing would ever change when you left? That you would always love me, because that’s what putting a ring on my finger meant? Forever. But that was a lie, wasn’t it? You changed your mind, and to this day, it still hurts. Like a knife to the back, a wound that will never heal. In two months, it will be exactly one year since you broke off our engagement. And on that day, I will break down and cry until I can’t cry anymore. Its not pathetic, it’s love. Possibly craziness, but I’m overlooking that part.

Anyways. Someday, I hope you get to read this. And I hope it hits you hard in the face. Like I wish I could do to you sometimes. Because I think you might need a good face-slap these days. But then again, I’ve always been that way about you. I love you. And I hope nothing but all the greatness in the world for you.

I hope that in the end, you find me, and that everything will finally be okay again. And that we will finally be a “we” again. Like it should be.

With all the love that I have to give,
Meganne, age 20