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.