Dear Ms. River

You probably won't read this. You probably don't want to see anything with my name on it. In fact, you probably don't want to see my name. Ever again.

Matt's gone, Ms. River. He passed away on Monday. I can only assume it was a drug overdose.
I know you didn't like him much. While Matty and I had our conflicts at times, he was still a friend to me.
It was Matt, that I was at the hospital with when I called you, the same day we talked about our feelings for each other, you remember? I was sitting in the hospital lobby and we talked for hours, maybe four or five.
I can't  help but imagine where you're at right now. With your boyfriend, or maybe with Celina, playing pool and drinking wine.
Today I closed my eyes and thought about coming home to you. Pulling my laptop bag from off my shoulder and going outside to smoke cigarettes, and talk to you about how I'm feeling. Some sick part of me wants to believe that it would be a reality someday, instead of a dream. Some part of me would like to believe that we still live in a world where you love me, and I love you. A world where we hold each others hands and make meatballs, or salmon cured in salt and lemon. A world where I was a good guy and didn't fuck things up.
Right now, my hands tremble and shake over the top of my keyboard. Even typing something you'll probably never read, it's still fucking hard. A part of me still sits, in front of my laptop and checks gmail, and facebook, waiting for a message that will never come.
When two people love each other, they put hands over hearts, taking each others pulse until both hearts stop beating.
I still live in a world where I still love you. I love you and I know you'll never love me back, not the way that I still love you. Not like you used to.