missing you so darned much that it hurts like hell, Joe.

i remember how the sun made your eyes so liquid. it always took my breath away. even now. your face is my comfort memory. but as soon as the memories end i am back to reality. a reality that sucks because it doesn't have you in it joe.

i still have that bottle of your cologne that you forgot at my place. that t-shirt that you lent me. it smells like you. i still sing those songs that we sang together. i still have the wrapper of Mars that you gave me. i still have the tissue that you wiped your brow upon when you had that interview.

joe. i don't even wanna try to move on. that's how miserable i am. that's how insanely pathetic i am. i have nothing of my own. the only thing that constitutes to my existence is you. you're my reason. as long as i have that last shred of hope that i may have you one day, i shall exist. as soon as that last thread of hope breaks i dunno what shall become of me.

i cant love anyone else joe. and i know nobody can ever love a disrupted, broken empty shell that i've become. i'm damaged goods joe. only you  can make me whole again.

i love you and shall always love you.

yours truly

Sarah Walters.