I know, I know. I left. Walked away with no regard for your feelings. I bet you felt like a ‘kiss and dump’, after that summer when our lips hardly left each others. But you weren’t. You were different. I loved you. I still do. But you’ve moved on, haven’t you? You’re busy ‘consoling yourself’ with…HER. And I won’t lie, it hurts. It hurts badly.
But it’s my fault. I walked out on perfection itself. I never thought to say, ‘It’s not because I don’t love you.’ I never considered telling you why. I left the country because I had to go home. Because I had to see my family again. You see, sweetie, I’ve loved you since we first met, and I’ll love you when we meet again, be it on heaven’s doorstep or hell’s threshold. Because what I never had the heart to tell you is this: I’m dying, my love.
But know my love never did die and never will. And please, remember me. Whether it’s fondly or with fury. Just think of me like I’m here spending my last few weeks thinking of you.
With love and regrets,
Your once sweetheart.