Dearest Alan,

It was one of those nights when you stare at the white screen but you could not seem to see anything but black because your mind tells you no one is pure; everybody's tainted and you're all alone.

Black is the convergence of all colors—of all that had been and might have been—like your life you see flickering back and forth in fast forward sometimes in slow motion and you couldn't breathe.

And then it pauses and you see the face you've wanted to see since it disappeared and you realize it was true that you only miss what you have when it's gone. The laughter when it never fades haunts you like your skin clings to you like the cold that bites you from the inside like the fire that burns eternally.

In your mind he sits beside you on the bed you made for two and he holds your hands like the sun would never shine tomorrow and you cry because you said nobody held your hand the way he does and he smiles. He smiles like he's saying he's yours and that he'll never let go and that he had just found what he was looking for. You smile because you knew and you hurt because it wasn't a lie and you say you want no one but him only to mask the pain. And he kisses you, softly, tenderly like he was afraid you would break and you said you were always broken and no one can fix you but yourself so he damaged himself beyond repair trying to heal you when you refused to be healed.

You see yourself in the mirror and know that somehow you were incomplete but you did see he wasn't, too but you look away. You taste your bittersweet pain but he was tasteless. And yet he stayed because he said he would because he was prepared to give you more than you could offer and he touched your face and whispered 'I love you' and you smiled and you didn't know what to say.

Like how you didn't know what to do when they judge you and mock you and defile you for who you are like you're a filth no one can get rid of and you hurt while you remember the insults more painful than the actual blows. He stood beside you battling the hordes of them and he would use himself as a shield when they try to abuse you, to take a swing at you and he bleeds and you can smell the tangy smell and taste the unobtrusive taste and you said you can't cry anymore because you cried so much for yourself and left none to spare for him.

But he laces his fingers with yours and he hushes you down when you have a nightmare and when you suffocate he gives you the air to breathe. You were like Morphine coursing through his veins because you were enough for him not to feel any pain because you were pain itself that he welcomes with open arms.

You run in circles and he had been the center, the axis that shall always stand strong to keep you on your feet. But the laws of physics declare that every action be rewarded with a reaction so the centripetal and the centrifugal fell away and you got swept off your feet in his arms and you kiss again and you fell in bed and you make love to a broken man like a broken you. And you felt him thrust deeper and deeper like a shattered record and you were in the dark, in the nightmare and you scream and you let go and you wouldn't look at him no matter how many times he says he's sorry for hurting you.

When you woke up and he wasn't there and you wanted him to be there and you choked on sobs and you reach out but your fingers clasps thin air but not his. A single note lay on the pavement and he scribbled 'I will love you forever' and you cry for the first time for him and not yourself because you finally felt his pain and not just yours. You dialed his number and there was no answer just the rings and the busy tone and you tried and tried for days and months and years and he never got to pick up because he was lost somewhere.

He got lost etching his own name on his own epitaph, the one you're crying on now, the one that's drenched in your tears because he was taken from you when you least expect it and you dread the night because it would be too cold without him, the bed too large without him, the pain too painful without him and you have no other choice but to move on when you know you can never move on because it was all too much and the only thing you wanted to do is to remember even if you want to forget how to remember but you couldn't.

So you tried to compose a fucking song, one line, two lines, three lines and chorus and it went on and on and on because you can't stop like you can't stop the tears from flowing. You write words here and there and periods and emotions you wanted portrayed the love you wanted felt because he was everything when you were nothing and he held on when you wanted to let go and he made love to you when you couldn't even touch yourself and you wanted more but all you got is this stupid little essay and there's nothing left to say.