Drowning. No, burning. No, freezing. Maybe all three. Ever since she left me. Drowning in depression, burning with anger, and freezing with the frigid realization that I will never see her again. Will never see her beautiful blue eyes again. Will never again witness the way the sun glinted off of her golden hair. The day I saw those azure eyes that I loved so much for the last time was the day I sunk into this dark hole I now call home.

So many conflicting emotions. Anger: How could she leave me? Couldn't she have done something? Sadness: I will never see her again. I miss her. Why did she have to go? Pain: I can't even stomach the fact that I will wake up tomorrow and she will not be there. She will not be there, gifting me with her radiant smile and her amazing voice. Numb: How I feel most of the time. Just knowing that I will never again brush my hand against her porcelain skin.

They all say that there is a chance that I will see her again, but if that chance isn't 100 percent then I will not be satisfied. I know I will never be happy again. Not without her. Not knowing that I will someday die without ever telling her I loved her. She knew I liked her, but never knew how much. She never knew I loved her. I never told her. She left without knowing. They all say I'm too young for love. That I'm not quite old enough to understand it or know how it feels. But I know exactly how it feels.

Love feels how I used to feel when I was near her. My heart sped up and the world slowed down. My face flushed hot and the air felt thick. That was love. But love is a trap. No, a drug. It pulls you in, gets you hooked. Brings you to a place higher than you ever dreamed possible. Then you lose it. You lose it because nothing can last forever. Especially not love. And when you lose it, you go through withdrawals. Horrible withdrawal symptoms like depression and extreme agony.

She was an angel. A dark and frightening-in-some-ways angel. I found it rather hard to believe that a heart that big could fit inside of her relatively small body. She was sweet, but could bite if she needed to. She was beautiful, inside and out. She didn't think so, and I wanted to remind her of it every day. But I couldn't. Just like I couldn't tell her I loved her. I had planned to, but I ran out of time.

There could never be enough time spent with her. And I could never leave her the way she left me. I understand that it wasn't her fault. I understand that she had no choice, but I miss her too much not to be angry. I don't want to be angry with her. I should be concentrating on the amazing time we spent together, but I can't think about that without remembering that we will never make any more of those amazing memories.

I'm not over-reacting. Not being dramatic. But no one could possibly understand that. No one could ever understand how much I loved her. No one could ever understand how it felt to see her. How it felt to talk to her. How it felt to know she was near me. No one could ever get it. Even those who have lost the ones they loved in the same way. They could never understand how it felt to lose her.

She was like a china doll. Beautiful and fragile. Very fragile, but so was I. Even more so now that she's gone. She wasn't just any china doll. She was my china doll. I was so afraid that if I held her I might break her. Fracture the only person I had ever truly loved.

She wasn't pretty. She has been through too much to be simply deemed "pretty". She was beautiful, stunning, majestic even. I never understood how she held on. Through everything. It astounded me that she could be so strong and so fragile at the same time. Not physical strength. She had arms the width of twigs and could barely lift her backpack. But her emotional strength made up for it. More than made up for it. She wasn't a hero. Wasn't a legend. But she was more than those brave knights and extraterrestrial freaks could ever be.

I hope she's somewhere great. I hope she's happy because I never will be. I hope she can find peace because I never will. I hope she finds a decent corner of existence to feel comfortable in. I hope she gets all her rockstar dreams and finds a way out of her depression. I want her to have all the things that I never will. Happiness, hope, peace, fun...love.

I will never have any of those things because I am being eaten alive. Buried alive. Torn to pieces. Shredded. All because I never told her I loved her.