I told myself that I would get over you. I knew it would take some time, you don't just fall out of love with someone that easily but I would manage it.
The day we parted broke my heart and even telling myself that it was for the best didn't ease the crippling pain in my chest. I had never realised that I could hurt so much or for so long.
But I carried on. I had no choice, life doesn't stop and give us time to heal, and I told myself that I would get over you – eventually.
Every morning I would awake to the picture of you that I kept by my bed. I would look at your beautiful face and smile as I remembered the taste of your lips, the softness of your touch and the smell of your skin. My heart would swell with the memory of your love, of the love that we had shared, even if it was only for the briefest of times. And then I would think of how it ended. The tears and the accusations, all of the anger and hate that our love had caused and my heart would break anew.
Every morning I would put your picture away in a drawer because seeing it just hurt too much. Every evening I would take the picture out of the drawer and put it back beside my bed because not seeing you hurt even more.
And I told myself I would get over you – one day.
Sometimes I would hear a song and want to tell you about it. I would see a film and want to share it with you. As much as I missed your love there were days when I missed your friendship more.
I've not found anyone in my life like you. No one ever understands me like you did. No ones touch excites me as much, no ones smile melts my heart so completely and no ones love ever felt as real.
I told myself that I would get over you and I've waited for two years but the pain and loss is still as sharp as the day we had to say goodbye.
I told myself that I would get over you – I was wrong.
So I'm coming home. I'm coming home to tell you that I'm sorry, to tell you that I miss you and to tell you that I still love you.
I'm coming home for you John Paul and I hope that you still want me.