You once told me you could envision a future with me,
just from a photograph.
And though it came later for me,
I won’t lie—I too imagined it.
But I know I fell for you more deeply,
more fervently,
than you ever could for me.

The moments we shared blur now,
but I recall how you threw around the word "love"
like it was a passing sentiment,
a casual expression.
But I understood its weight—
its sharpness, its power—
stronger than any blade.
You learned,
and never uttered it again.

In my last message to you,
and the final poem I penned,
I wished for you to meet the woman of your dreams.
But I hoped she would be like me—
someone who studied you meticulously,
as if you were a vital subject for an exam.
I knew every intricacy of you,
every detail,
because I loved you that much.
I did this out of devotion,
even though you never reciprocated that same care.
I wish you could have seen that.

I hope you receive everything you've ever longed for—
the mansion, the car, the dog,
the perfect family,
vacations to snow-capped peaks,
the joy of teaching your children the kindness you always talked about.
You have my unwavering love, my boundless faith in you,
always.
It’s sincere, it’s unconditional,
and it remains,
unshaken.