I am, but you aren't.

I'm playing your music. I'm laying on the ground. I'm listening to our song.
I'm clutching your hoodie. I'm choking on tears. I'm remembering all the years. I'm having a hard time focusing on what your voice sounded like. I'm racking my brain, but I'm forgetting. Your smell is fading from the hoodie. You're not here to sing our song. I think it would be different, if you left by choice. You didn't choose to leave us though. You were taken from us. You were taken, and now I'll never know. Would we have been together as we continued to grow up? Would I steal your last name, and have your babies? Would we have moved away, or stayed put? These are all the questions I wanted to ask you. A part of me died with  you. A part of me wishes all of me died with you. A part of me doesn't want anymore days without you. I sound so selfish. You were mine, but not as long as you were theirs. They miss you so much. I cringe at the thought of all their tears. She told me she was happy that you loved me the rest of your life. Here I am though, crying because I'll never become your wife. All my friends who haven't seen you in a while ask me how you are, and I have to look at them, and tell them exactly how you are. Or how you aren't anymore. I'm so mad. I'm so mad because I made plans, and you ruined them. I'm mad because you're gone, and I can't think about now. I think about how you're gone, and we can't have the future. I think about how you were yesterday. But I can't. I absolute can't bare to think about how you are today. That KILLS me. I love you. I didn't get to tell you before you left. I was going to, and we had some small argument, and it caused me to fret. Now you are fucking gone. I love you. I hope you hear me. I hope you forgive me. I am playing your music. I am laying on the ground. I am listening to our song. I am clutching your hoodie. I am choking on tears. I miss you so much. I wish so badly that you were here.