I never wrote about you.

No words could describe the frustration,

the confusion, but mostly the pain.

I stopped turning pages when you were taken.

My heart died that day and never loved another

the same way.

I stare down at this book,

your name still there, written in bold.

I was always hopeful that someday

we'll continue this chapter - together.

15 years of collected dust and bottled tears.

You may never know the truth,

or wish to know, but I pray you will.

Hope remains that you'll come back

and breathe love back into my heart,

but if not, I wish you all the best.

Heartless.

It was worth it.

So are you.