To the first love of my life,
It's been 6 months since you passed away and broke my heart. And not a day goes by that I don't think of you. Even till now the loss still hurts. A lot. I keep asking if you can give me a sign to let me know if you loved me too. I did have a dream about us one night in which you made it very clear how you felt, but I think that was more my wishful thinking.
I keep thinking about that night in May, our legs touching under the table while we were talking with other people at your party. I can only hope that the message I was sending, although subtle, told you how I felt...and that you were responding in kind. I still am kicking myself over not taking a chance since then, when we found out our marriages ended, to ask you out and seeing where it would take us.
But sometimes things in life don't happen. Regardless, I was (and still am) so thankful that we always remained good friends. I will never forget how we were at each other's parties and weddings, and you even came to that one cultural festival too. I was always excited to see you, and the smile and happiness in your eyes said the same.
This is why your sudden death kills me. You're not around to share good news with anymore, no more invites, and sadly, you won't be at my wedding. I was looking forward to us doing a duet at the reception. I know you would have loved that idea. You're the only one I know who loves music as much as I do, and we would have had a blast working on that together.
I know that people come and go, but I wasn't ready to let you go as of yet. I still needed you. You went too soon. You would have been 62 this Saturday.
Happy birthday, mi amore. I miss you more than you know. You still have a piece of my heart and soul.