Even if my words fall dead on her ears now, I try to no longer let bitterness and rosy retrospection fill me.
What we had was real, and whoever you become, wherever you are in the world, I'm sending you love.
I catch myself saying the slang you taught me, and ordering drinks I know you would've loved. From the cologne scented "White Rice" I wear every day, the thrifted watch on my wrist that's still set to your timezone, to the moments I walk past white Baby's Breath flowers. I just want you to know - there will be a piece of you that carries forward in me always, and even as life goes on, you linger in the smallest ways. I'm grateful for that. And if, in some distant place in the future we see each other in our new lives, I'll smile at you with joy and remember the New Year's we spent driving around your flower embellished city under the clear night's sky. Learning from each other and growing in love.
I would've rather tried with you a million times to get it right, even if we always got it wrong. You will never find the same person twice, not even in the same person.
I should've given you those flowers while you could still smell them. But now I have to remember you for longer than I've known you.