End.

So i guess this is it. This is my life.

I will never have a photograph of him to carry around in my pocket. I will never have a letter in his handwriting, or a scrapbook of everything we want to do. I will never share an apartment/condo with him in the city. I will never know if we are listening to the same song at the same time. We will not grow old together. I will not be the person he will talk to in times he’s upset nor will the person he calls when he’s in trouble. He will not be the person I’ll call when I have stories to tell. I will never be able to tell him that I love him and its true.

This memory,

I will only have this.

I will always have this.

He will remember this, too. Only the memories we share.

I close my eyes.

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