My heart hurts.  A deep ache that I cannot remedy.  My first true love is leaving me.  We will never be with one another again.  In time, my heart will heal, but I will never be whole again.  I sit alone now, with the memories of all the good times we've had.  There were never any bad times, either.  NEVER.  I will see my love on the streets, making someone else happy... wishing I could be that someone.  All the old friends we had together are still with my love and will likely remain there.  Leaving me to my despair, to my desire.  Could I keep a small part of you, I asked.  I knew I could not, it would make the leaving that much more cold.  More painful.  I will always know where to find you, I say, but it wouldn't be the same.  The marks left on my body will continue to fade, but I will not wish them away.  They are there for a reason.

I will never stop loving you.