Julia, I hope you know that a day has never passed by without me thinking of you. Without thinking about your eyes and how they crinkle when you smiled. How you're rich black hair smelled like oranges. Or the way you would lay gracefully on my bed reading one of my comic books.
Julia, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I said those things. I'm sorry that I yelled. I was mad at I wasn't myself. I wish I could take back that night and tell you I loved you instead. I wish I could bring you inside and we'd share a blanket and drink some hot chocolate and be happy. But that's not what happened. I let you go. I watched you leave and I let you die. It was my fault. It's ok if you don't forgive me.
Julia, it's gotten worse. I've tried to quit but I can't. Everything is just piling up and I can't see my floor anymore. I can't help it. Just looking at a garbage can makes my skin itch. What if, what if I forgot about you? What if I accidentally threw something away that had at least one small memory of you? What if someone else dies? No. I can't think about that anymore.
Julia, you'd hate her. She has reddish-brown hair and these amazing blue eyes. She wears colors other than black. She has this amazing voice that grabs my attention and I can't help it. I can't help teasing her, or staring at her, or dreaming about her. I love you Julia. I really do.
She could never take your place.