This drabble isn't about anyone in particular, just something sad I wanted to write. I suggest picking two people in your head and reading it as them.

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I feel like I’m slowly going crazy without you here to comfort me.

My heart’s breaking. . . Can’t you hear me? Can’t you somehow answer me? A cold breeze, a slight touch, a whisper.

Is this too much to ask? One of those, one of those to keep me sane. One of those to keep me from debating on jumping from a fifty-foot tall building to put an end to this ceaseless suffering.

Imagine it. I’d be free of the pain you left behind. You’d be there waiting for me, perhaps a little disappointed in my actions. But I’d be with you. I’d be with you forever.

It’d be nice. To see you again, smiling, not just in those pictures, cursed to remain frozen in time. You’d be there. I could touch you, feel you, breathe you in.

Thinking of this gives me goosebumps. Just the thought of being with you again makes my heart flutter.

For a moment I seriously consider ending my life just to be with you. But I talk myself out of it, reminding myself of all my loved ones. If I killed myself, who’s to say someone I love won’t do the same? It would be like a chain.

I don’t want that.

But really, is one sign from you too much to ask? I want to know you’re fine, I want to know you’re. . . happy.

I’ve been sitting in my room, covering my cheeks with tears at the thought of you smiling and having fun just a week before. A week before we didn’t have a care in the world. A week before, I was going to tell you how much you meant to me to your face.

I never got to, and that’s what kills me the most. If only you knew how much I cared for you, how much I loved you. No, still love; there’s not anyone I love more than I do you. Did you hear me? I love you.

I don’t know how I’ll go on without you. You were my life, my reason for living.

My heart aches. Please heal it in the ways only you know how. When I was upset, you were always there to make me feel better. Where are you now?

Give me some kind of sign. Just one more touch. One more gentle, sweet, touch.

Maybe I could move on myself knowing you’re still with me.