I hope you see an empty beach chair with an abandoned book at sunset and think of our late nights with the sand between our toes and the breeze blowing in my blonde hair. I hope you step on a dirty bandana while you’re walking down the street and you think of the smile I had on the Fourth of July when the fireworks lit up the darkness for us. I hope you hear "I’m Yours" on the radio and remember how I sat in my room near the door and sang softly to you; I hope you remember how I serenaded you on every car ride home from our midnight breakfasts.

I hope you see an empty beach chair with an abandoned book at sunset and think of our late nights with the sand between our toes and the breeze blowing in my blonde hair. I hope you step on a dirty bandana while you’re walking down the street and you think of the smile I had on the Fourth of July when the fireworks lit up the darkness for us. I hope you hear "I’m Yours" on the radio and remember how I sat in my room near the door and sang softly to you; I hope you remember how I serenaded you on every car ride home from our midnight breakfasts.

I hope you miss me and the memories and all the things we used to do together even though we were never really together. I hope that you see me on the street one day and ask yourself why you never thought I could be okay with you by my side.

I have always been OK by you. You are the one thing that allowed me to feel whole again. You are the only person on this planet that I was able to trust with my life but you didn’t want me.

After a year of postponing and saying “I’m not ready for a relationship” it came down to one night in your bed and two text messages later.

“Maybe you should find someone to talk to that actually likes you,”

Things like that break through the strongest of metals. Things like that hurt the next day when you see them at work.

It hurts a month later when you hear him mention a date he’s going on.

It hurts three months later when he uses her name interchangeably with “my girlfriend.”

It hurts five months later when you think you’ve moved on but you park outside of work on your day off to see them kissing in the parking lot.

It hurts seven months later when you find his sweatshirt in a pile of old clothes and end up sobbing in the middle of your bedroom at 3 AM.

It hurts nine months later when you’re talking and he says he loves his girlfriend when he’s only ever said that to you after falling into bed.

It hurts a year later at 1:30 in the morning and you’re thinking about where you were last year and how everything is so different, how much you’ve grown and how much more of the world you have seen and how many people’s lives who’ve enriched who have enriched yours in return.

It still hurts and maybe you’ll always have some part of you nagging and talking about all of the "what ifs" and "could’ve beens" but I’m breathing and living and making a good life for myself without the person I thought I would never be able to live without.

So yes I hope my song comes on the radio. And I hope you see an empty chair and think of me. And I hope you step on a bandana that reminds you of the summer we spent cuddled on the sand. I hope you see me one day and you wonder why you left. But I hope that when that day comes that I am a genuinely happy individual. I hope that you are able to live your life carefree, knowing how much you are loved. Just promise that if you think of me that you will remember the highs, not the lows. I hope you think of me and feel like you were genuinely loved.