I'm sorry I let go without a fight. I wish more than anything in this world that there was a way to bring you back. To somehow hold you safe into my arms and watch you doze off. I want to be given the chance to know you, to grow old with you, to be your bestfriend. Your guardian angel on earth. I wonder if you'd twitch, the same way he did in his sleep. I wonder if you'd have his half-smirk smiles that I loved so dearly. Or if you'd sleep with a stern and fixed look on your face the way he does; never at ease. And every time I look at you, I wonder if I'd see him. I probably wouldn't be able to take it. I couldn't handle seeing him every time I look at you. I couldn't handle having any sorts or kinds of relationships with him anymore. I can't. I can't even handle writing anymore because it always leads to this. Which is why things played out the way they did. Because I didn't want him to be miserable and resent either one of us. But just because it was for the best, doesn't mean I don't wish otherwise. Every. Single. Day.