Reaching Out

I want to talk to you. I just remembered the beginning; when we were just getting to know each other and 'I love your girl' had just come out. We were so into each other. The three years since, we've been up and down; dated, not dated; had fun, fought; I don't think I'll want to forget the good times. The bad times are such a distant memory now and I laugh for allowing myself to ever get upset over such little things. At the time, they seemed so important. I guess it's cause I assumed you'd always be there to handle my drama.
It's almost the fourth year and I can't talk to you cause you're gone. Obviously alive, but gone from me. I want to reach out and just talk to you but what good would it do? Will it help you get over this? Will it fix everything? Will it be the beginning of a bright future?
Maybe not.
On the other hand, what harm could it do? Will it be like trying to chase shadows in the dark? Will it destroy whatever little respect we have for each other?
Maybe not.
You always said,'Keep writing and one day, I'll get you published, when I'm rich.' And I said,'I don't want to get published.' Just one of the many things we could never agree on. *sad smile* It was something we never pushed but always repeated, like a record, over and over. I don't know why that stuck in my head for this long but I always remember it as our most iconic conversation.
If you ever read this, I just want to say 'Hi' and wish you a speedy recovery.
We've been through a lot but maybe it's time to drop this facade, or maybe we just need time.
Or maybe not. Maybe it's just over.

Maybe...