Writes..."Hidden In A Drawer, Under A Stack Of Papers, Was An Envelope Marked For Her"

"when i died there hadn't been anyone to hold my hand as i passed on. no kiss to my forehead, no tears shed for me at my deathbed. i died as i had lived, alone and unremarkably. there was no hidden note to find declaring my feelings for a secret love. something that would be discovered and given to her so she could read my words and know how i'd felt about her. and she'd break down, realizing that she'd felt the same way about me. but i'd run out of time. i'd never gotten around to writing that note. i guess i figured there would always be an opportunity for me to put everything i wanted to tell her, everything i needed her to know about what i wanted for us, down on paper. that i wanted a life together, that i wanted her to be mine. but the truth is my death was just the finality of our situation. i mean, there had been no note to find because the feelings we had for one another weren't a secret. there was nothing to write that would have changed anything between us. i had known that she loved me and she'd known that i loved her and we'd had a shot at happiness for ourselves before and tragically let it slip away from us. and though we both moved on to other people and other things, i couldn't let the love i had for her go as easily as i'd let go of our relationship. can you really lose the love you have for that someone you feel destined for? can you really lose your heart? i don't think that's possible. but now i'm dead and it's too late for us and what we should have been. all because we'd wasted time trying to find the joy we had with one another elsewhere. my love for her is forever though my time here was finite. and without her, i'd died alone and unremarkably."