You.
You beautiful, perfect lost girl that I fell in love with somewhere between the blushing and the constant lost chess games.
You make it impossible to write anything anymore, and I'm a writer!
The only words that I have written so far have been an I and a love and a you.

Tomorrow I'm going to your funeral, sorry it's not what you wanted. No songs are going to be played, but I'll sing to you when they're all gone.
Don't worry, I'm still here forever. You're just going away for a while, but I'll visit you everyday and soon enough I'll move in. Promise.
Till then,

Me.