She always said we were practically carbon copies of each other. Scientifically, that is. Even thought I always said it wasn’t true, it is now that I think about it. Our ego just won’t let us admit that really all of us want the same things. Money. Power. Love. Acceptance. I was no exception.

When I met her, she made me think of new things. Her appearance was so beautiful it made me want to be better just to feel worthy enough to be around her. She had interesting theories too. Like on life, love, and everything else big or little. So I made myself a better person. Just to let myself feel at least an ounce of worth, so that maybe I could be by her side forever. That was me, always happy, positive. To balance her out, you see.

I wasn’t always like this. I got kicked out of four different schools before I met her. After, my parents were so shocked at the sudden change in my behavior that they sent me to a therapist. I never went to his sessions though, I was always with her. With you.

I’m trying to tell our story. Maybe, no one wants to hear it. I hope so. In a way, this is our private story and no one should know what happened. But some part of me feels that the only way to cope with her loss is to remember. So I’ll write our story. I promise, my sweet. With my dying breath, I’ll write.

I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I thought I could, actually. That was stupid of me. I was never the smart one, you were. I just relied on my words. But this time, the words failed me. I can’t write this for others. But I must. So I’ll write it to you. You won’t mind, will you? It’s not like you’ll see it anyways.

I miss you. More than I thought. But that’s to be expected when you separate the key from the lock. Two things made for each other, thinking they’ll never be apart. When they are, it hurts so badly. The pain. It’s almost unbearable.

Almost.

The thing I miss most about you is your smile. When you smiled, it looked like everything about you was smiling. From her eyes to the tips of her fingers to the ends of her toes. You glowed, my dear.

You didn’t smile too often though. You didn’t just smile for anyone. Just one person. But I was fine with that. I liked being the only person who could make you smile.

I still remember the time you first smiled for me. It wasn’t in a condescending manner like I thought the first time would be. I felt genuine. I can tell you again, if you don’t remember. I can picture it clearly.

You were so beautiful at that moment. God damnit, you were so beautiful. It hurts to think about it.

It’s a good pain.

It was my public speaking assignment, and I was nervous. You weren’t, though, and it was probably a weird side effect of loving and wanting to be like you for so long, but looking at her calmed me down.

I finished my speech with a standing ovation. My speech was on whales. The whole class tried to hold in their laughter the entire time, but only you were brave. You looked right at me, winked, and laughed uproariously, throwing your head back and letting loose. Thank you.

I don’t think I can finish this story about us. It’s too hard. It hurts too much.

You do something to me. I can’t explain it. That’s your only negative asset.

You make me cry, my wonderful.

Time will heal all wounds. I hope Time has mercy on me and leaves my wounds alone. I don’t want mine to be healed. They remind me of you. Maybe they could stay and become scars.

Scars of our love.