Dear Harry,

Abigail thinks that I'm getting better. But I still feel like shit.

A year.

It's been a year since you decided to leave me... I don't blame you, Harry. It's just unfair. Not only to me but you too.

Do you know what just came to my mind? The three years we spent together. Our three years. Three wonderful years with you. I don't regret one bit of them. The only thing I can do now is remember every happy or sad moment we had together. 

Especially our last night before you left. You left so suddenly and without any warning.

I still remember the way I prepared your tea that night. Hot tea with two sugars. You didn't want milk. We sat on the couch wrapped in each other's arms by the fireplace. You tried to sing to me but your voice wouldn't let you. You took a few sips of your tea and kept trying to sing to me.

I stopped you. You had to rest. The next day was a big day for you. I said that we should go to bed but you refused. You didn't want to ruin our moment. And you managed to make me fall asleep in your arms while your fingers were intertwined with my own.

And for the first time , sleeping disgusted me.

I still love you.

Yours,
Taylor