His face used to light up when he saw me - his face would relax and a small smile that said “That’s my girl” would brighten any mood.
He used to touch my arm as he walked past, just because he wanted some small physical contact.
He used to pull me close to him in his sleep, bury his face in the back of my neck, and not let my arm out of his grasp.
He used to laugh at me endlessly until our eyes watered.
He used to hold me as I cried when the world was too heavy to carry on my own.
He used to dance with me, to hold me close and plant kisses on my cheek to make me smile.
He used to kiss me with fire, kiss me passion, and kiss me with love.
He used to love me like there was no rising sun and nothing else that mattered in the world.
He used to say that I was his best friend.
He used to say that he loved me.
And then he didn’t.
He said I wasn’t the right one for him.
He said he wasn’t sure if he loved me.
People have said that there should have been some sign of that. They say that I missed something.
He loved me. I know he did.
Even if he isn’t sure, I am.
He loved me. I knew that to be fact.
But he walked away.
If he reads this, I hope he can know that to be true.
There is no “One” who you are meant to be with. There is only the one person who makes you happy. The one who makes you strive to be a better person, not for them, for yourself. The one that you wake up next to and want to be closer to them because six inches is too far away. The one that makes you laugh and makes you comfortable enough to cry. The one that is there for you through stressful days, happy days, terrible days, and only average days. The one that wants to share all of your days.
The one that despite everything still loves you with all her heart, without any conditions, expectations, or limitations.