Dear Harry,

Your mother called to check how I was holding up. I always loved your mother and I'll keep loving her even now that you're gone.

Do you remember our first Christmas together? We were invited to dinner at your parents' house. It was the first time that I met your parents and we were both nervous to see if they would like me, especially your mother.

It went good and we had a great time.

That night when we laid down on your childhood bed at her house, you started playing with my hair and said to me, "She likes you."

"How do you know?" I asked.

"She told me," you said with a big grin and eyes glimmering with joy. You were so happy that I made her happy and I was extremely pleased that I managed to make our little family happy. I wish I could see her again, without the unbearable pain in my chest.

She apologized once again like she does every time she calls. The moment froze, she was crying. I tried to stop the tears from rolling down my face and the sobs coming out of my mouth. She's been so thoughtful of me and considered me as another responsibility of hers.

I wish I could turn the time back, Harry. I wish that I could've helped you at the right time. You and your mother.

I wish I knew you back then. Back then when you met her. I hate her, Harry. If it wasn't for her, you would've still been here with me. It sounds selfish, yes but the pain of being away from you makes me selfish.

When I hung up, I finally allowed the tears to fall. I hope that you don't get angry at me because of the strands of hair that cover my face. They've gotten pretty long and it's hard for me to keep them at place. You had told me quite a few tricks to tame my hair but I can't remember any of them.

I only remember your words "Remember, your hair is more beautiful if you shave it and let it grow back. It's not a bad thing, you know?"

Why didn't you tell me sooner, Harry?

I still love you.

Yours,

Taylor