If I’m being honest with myself, you were the one. You were it. You always were. I think on some level, you knew it too.
I think I was scared seeing your dad die when we were young. I was scared loving you because I knew you’d see the same unfair fate one day. Despite all this love and perfect imperfection, you were just like him. I knew, and I was a coward.
Seeing your dad die from ALS didn’t phase you, somehow. Like you understood so early that life wasn’t worth living if you didn’t LIVE. You were always smiling. Always just happy to be wherever you were. Always ready with a joke or a disarming catchphrase. I don’t think I was on your level, ever. You wielded love openly. I was afraid.
I’ll never forget stealing you from that girl you dated before me. How egotistical I was! But somehow, you knew you were meant for me. I never deserved you, and I always remember thinking how lucky I was to receive your love. Your heart was special. Greater than most. I knew that with my whole being.
I always hear people talk about how the good die young. I always thought that was overgeneralization until now. Your past is littered with philanthropy, with love, and with so many people who knew of your heart. It was so special. It feels so wrong now that it was gone too soon. So very, very wrong.
I still don’t know what happened, just that you’re gone too soon. Way too soon. Too soon for me to say what I’ve wanted to say this whole time:
I love you.