Hearing the way you speak about him, it makes me wonder. Did you ever love me like that? Did you ever speak to your friends so eagerly about me as you do him? Were you ever as excited to see me as you are him? I look at you and see in your eyes all that love and admiration. Did you ever feel that way about me?
Is it jealousy that propels me forward? I do not think so. I feel it is simply wonder, for I had always thought myself to be your first and only true love, perhaps that was selfish of me. I had never been one to believe that any love could ever outshine that of your first. Nothing could be more passionate, more special, more sacred. And yet I see you with him and I know this to be false.
My time with you was short in the eyes of the immortal and despite my lack of ability to truly express how much it meant to me, I enjoyed every second of it. I feel as if I have let you slip through my fingers and right into his grasp, though I harbor no hard feelings against him. He could not have known the love we had cultivated. And more importantly than the love was the time we had spent together. I loved being with you and the things that make you unique. I know you better than I know myself. Maybe it was this extreme infatuation that convinced me that I loved you. I assumed it must not have been love after all for I do not believe one can entertain such deep passionate emotions without them being reciprocated.
Yes, I admit I tested you in some very unconventional ways, but that is all they were; tests. I had to know that your love for me was true. You fared well in the beginning but, when it came down to it, you were not willing to fight for me. This is what broke my heart the most. Still, I could not let you go. I could not go an hour without thinking of you.
When I see you and him together, I see the fire and the fight in your eyes. I know that you would be willing to do anything for him. Even become mortal. Even die. Would you have done the same for me? One can only hope…