My Dearest Oliver

Dear Oliver;

It has been four years since I last saw your face. I never would have had the courage to say these things to you while you were alive, but now that you're gone, I suppose you know all.

I wanted to tell you that when we were together, I was afraid. I was afraid to tell you how much I loved you and needed you. I was afraid that if I stopped running, the chase would be over and then you would just see me, and I would not be enough for you.

Had I known that you were willing to die for me, that someday you would die for me, I would have stopped in my tracks and turned to you, I would have let my fear be damned and let you look at me, I would have made sure that you knew how much I loved you back.

The past four years have been maddening. I left our home and moved back to the tiny little town called New Orleans, where we met.

I walk past our old apartment on Rue Dumaine Street and look through the courtyard to the fountain with the girl who was in love with a goose.

You would be surprised by how much wear our old balcony has taken in four short years. I ride by the places we walked. The French Quarter held so much romance for us! I had always thought of it as a romantic city, but you wouldn't believe how lonely it has been without you.

I have drifted through these years, floating, biding my time until one day I can be at your side. I love you Oliver, I always have. You were the one, there has been none after you.

I close my eyes and I see you, clear, as if you were real. When I close my eyes long enough I can almost feel your fingers brush my cheek. I will never forgive myself for what I put you through.

My memories haven't faded over time. Every one said that they would, but they haven't. I need you as much right now as I did the night the phone rang, and a stranger's voice was on the other end. Every part of my being was yours. I'm so sorry I didn't let you know.

Love Forever, Yours