Dear Zayn,

It's been a few days since the funeral and everything still feels so surreal to me. I can't believe that you're gone.. forever.

Me, Caroline and your mum washed your body when you had passed away. I thought it was a beautiful thing to do but at the same time it was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. No one wants to see the love of their life lifeless..

It's so against our nature, so against my nature. I sometimes had to stop because I couldn't stop crying and I couldn't see what I was doing because of the blurring in my eyes. Your mum and Caroline would wait for me because they knew how much it meant to me to do something like that for you.

The last time taking care of you.. the last time looking after you before we would lie you down in the coffin.

Zayn, it was you. We all knew it was you, but at the same time it wasn't you. It was your body, your skin.. something I once loved hugging and kissing. You left, Zayn. You were in Heaven already, it was so obvious.

I made you wear your black jeans and a dark green sweater, you wore that when you told me I was yours and when the news came that I will never forget. The news that made me realize you were going to go away and never go back. I made you wear it because both sad and beautiful things were said at that moment. It just holds memories and shows how strong and positive you were and always had been.

Your mum made you wear the beanie I gave you for your birthday. I can't thank her enough, she doesn't know how much that means to me. You looked handsome, Zayn. You looked decent, something you wanted, right?

I'm smiling because of the memory, but I can't hold back my tears. They're dripping down on the paper I'm writing on. But it's okay. I know you'd let me cry, because you always understood me.

Your funeral was so beautiful, baby. And so many people came.. it was unbelievable. So many people that cared for you, that cried for you. I'm sure you would've been so thankful.

Caroline held the memorial speech. I can't believe how much that woman has done for you, but also for me. It's hard coming to work and not seeing you there. It's hard seeing an old man lying in the bed you were once lying in, in room number 28.

It makes me want to quit, Zayn, because it hurts so much. I have thought about it, but every time that thought came into my mind, I would either feel your presence or Caroline who'd say something to me that made me feel better.

She's taking good care of me, so is your family.

Your mother is strong, Zayn. So, so strong. She's invited me a few times over to your house, just to talk about you and our feelings. She can talk about you without crying, but I know she's still hurting deep down. But it's okay. We all are.

She let me sleep in your bed. I didn't know if I wanted it at first, I was scared I wouldn't be able to handle it emotionally. But once I did.. I never wanted to leave your bed. I can tell why you slept so much in it, it's comfortable. No, that's not the main reason, haha..

I still smell the faint vanilla scent of you.. your clothes.. everything. It makes me feel like I'm in your embrace. Something I wished that was real.

It's weird seeing your room the way you left it.. some clothes scattered on the floor nearby your wardrobe, your hairbrush with a few beautiful black hairs I remember you had, your art supplies, your handwriting on some sticky notes hanging up the wall for things you didn't want to forget, the empty packages of pills you didn't throw away..

Then downstairs, the way your jacket hangs up in the wardrobe, your shoes near the front door..

It makes me feel like you're still here yet it makes me feel so empty because I know you're not.

I grew pretty close with your sisters, I'm at your house almost every weekend. I feel like I'm a part of the family, Zayn. And it feels so good, because I know I'm not alone. Not now, not ever.

You're here, I know that. We all know it.

Thank you so much for the present. I'll keep it with me forever, it means so much to me and maybe my curiosity did flatter me after all, didn't it? The meaning and stories behind it made me cry, yet smile so much. I love you, Zayn. You're the most humble, genuine and precious guy I have ever met.

I wear your hoodie and beanie almost everyday. It makes me feel like I'm constantly hugging you as your vanilla scent is still in it. I don't want that smell to leave, but I'm scared it will because I'm almost living in your hoodie. Maybe I'll just put it back in your wardrobe for a few days to get the smell back.

I miss your stupid Titanic jokes. You made me love the comments about my name while any other person would only annoy me with it. I miss your cheeky smile when you were about to tease me, your wiggling eyebrow, your beautiful brown hazel eyes with the freckle in your right eye, the sound of your beautiful laugh, the sound of your deep voice.

Zayn, nothing can ever describe how much I miss you. I miss you so much, it hurts. But I know I need to keep telling myself that you're in a better place and that you're watching over me, like you told me in your letter.

That's a comforting thing to think about.

And I love you Zayn. You're in my heart, and I'm in yours, like you told me. Forever and always.

Love,

your Rose.