I miss you.
Dear Av,
I know my words now mean close to nothing, I haven't heard your voice or seen your face in months. I remember when you wrote me a letter on our one month anniversary, I used to hang it in my room, now its kept in its envelope, in a box of memories. You aren't the last person I've loved but you are the one and only person that had made love painful.
We no longer talked about the fantasy of one day marrying. Our friends no longer gushed about how sweet we were. Communication was lost, partially my fault as so. But no matter how distant we could grow, no matter how quiet we had become, I still loved you.
I missed texting you good morning and goodnight. I found ways to work around a time difference and the barriers of living with a sea in the middle of us. I missed hearing your voice and watching you smile through the camera lens when we would video chat.
In a way I still do, I miss the way I would always mess up your name because I was the only one in the country who knew it, I was the only one to have you. I miss your cute little accent and how you would smile. I miss your pretty little bows in your hair and how you would send me selfies and how well we complemented each other as a couple.
But you sent me a text one day while I was in class, it made me physically sick once I had read it. I knew that we weren't as good as we were at one point but I had still loved you. I knew that "Hey, can we talk?" meant no good to me. I could feel my stomach quench, my head pound, and my lungs deflate. I was ill, both mentally and physically, at the loss of a girl I had loved.
I will admit, it was a guilty pleasure to be the object of what was close of obsession on your part. I miss hearing about what you would say about me when I wasn't apart of the picture. I wish I would be big enough to have sent you this letter, I wish I was big enough to send the others that I have written. There are two other works of my infatuation, one in reply to your letter and then a second that was made with my tears when I had cried for you in the night that day, for it felt like my heart had shattered.
Nevertheless, I still know what had made you tick or swoon. I can recount how to make you shiver and heart beat frantically. I remember how we would secretly flaunt ourselves and our innocent relationship, for it was truly a secret to the bigger frame. I miss being free with you.
I miss you, but I no longer love you.
Truly,
(No Longer Your) Babe
