"I was fifteen the first time I put a cigarette to my mouth and I thought I'd never have the desire for nicotine again. I didn't really understand how someone could be drawn so strongly to something that could hurt them, but after kissing her for the first time, I think I get it.

We were meant to be, me and her. I really think we were but we lost it somehow and that eats me alive at night. I love her and she became a ghost inside me but that's how I keep her alive, I suppose. That's how anyone who lost a loved one keeps them alive isn't it?

I'll never get over her, I know that because… We didn't date. Technically, she wasn't an ex-girlfriend but… she was an ex-something, an ex-maybe, an ex-almost and almost is the worst way to love someone. You never forget your almost. I know she almost loved me. I could see it in her eyes every time she looked at me when she thought I wasn't looking. I was always looking at her though.

I just know that what I felt wasn't one-sided. She felt something for me too, maybe not exactly what I felt – and I don't even know what the hell that was – but it was definitely something. I knew her well enough to know she never loved me though and somehow I'm okay with that.

She told me not to leave her and I wish I knew how to not have done it. She doesn't even cross my mind anymore to be honest, she lives in it and that's both a blessing and a curse because she was my turning point and I missed the turn. I think about our last kiss a lot. How it felt. The way she tasted. How she pushed forward when I tried to pull back.

One of the hardest decisions you'll ever face in life is choosing to walk away or try harder. I didn't get to face that decision though, it was ripped away from my hands before I could but I know it didn't matter which one I chose because the end would still be the same.

She died from medication but it killed all the pain. She died and that's a load of shit but I'm the one tossing and turning in my sheets trying to forget the sweet words she poured down my throat and I think I'm drowning in them. I'm the one tossing and turning and she's at rest and that's just fucked up.

When someone dies it's not just their life that's affected, it's that of everyone who knew them at one point or another and I'm going to be affected by her death until the day I, myself, die.

There was a time when, for some reason, my demons were quiet when she was around but now my demons look like her sometimes and I welcome them. I let her become my happiness somewhere along our almost and that's where I went wrong because I used to try and silence my demons and now I feel like hugging them.

I still remember the first day I met her and the weeks after that. Back then, she was my boat, I was her sea and we'd float. Not perfectly, we were never perfect. But… delicately, never pushing, just… going.

I've been acting like I'm strong for months now but the truth is, I've been losing ground. I shrug it off though because I know that when you hit the bottom, your only way is up. I just didn't know the bottom was so far down.

My mouth turned to stone and shattered when I heard the news. I froze for what feels like hours, I couldn't even console Henry, I couldn't do anything besides trying to wrap my hazy mind around the news.

I can't escape the past creeping up inside me and reminding me that I can never bring her back. I need her but I know it'll never happen again.

There was a day her name didn't make me smile anymore, it just made tears well up in my eyes and yet I had to keep hearing it, I had to keep hearing Henry say it as he dreamed of a world where she was still with him, with us.

We were never in love. I love her but I was never in love with her and she was never in love with me but Gods, we could have been. With some more time, we could have been but time was violently ripped away from us.

I guess I just wanted her to tell me what she thought about when she couldn't fall asleep at night but she never did and I'll never know why either.

I feel like I'll never get over her and I probably won't. This time, last year, everything was so different. Better. I might not have her in my arms but I could see her without having to close my eyes. I think I was blind before I met her. My heart was blind and she stopped that blindness. She made me smile so hard that my cheeks hurt and now it's my eyes that hurt from crying.

I spoiled her, I was faithful to her and I trusted her but still she didn't remain mine and I tried to forget her after that but I think she grew roots around my ribcage and sprouted flowers below my collarbones. I plucked their petals every day but now I'm a garden of her.

Knowing someone isn't coming back doesn't mean you ever stop waiting and I'm finding that out the hard way because I'm still hoping it's her whenever someone knocks on the door. I think my dad has picked up on that because he always calls instead of knocking.

While I sleep, I dream of her and when I wake up, I long to hold her and it hurts like hell to know it will never happen again.

The risk I took with her was calculated but man, am I bad at math. I think though, that I'm a bit lucky for having had something that made saying goodbye so hard.

So, Regina… thank you. Wherever you are, whatever you are: rotting bones underground, an angel watching over me up in heaven, a demon looking up at me next to Satan in hell, another life on Earth with no memories of me. Thank you for gracing my life with your presence and for adding the measure of your soul to my existence. Know that until my death in the earliest, you won't be forgotten.

Goodbye, Regina, my almost and forever."