Dear Earth,
I wake up to the warmth of a body beside me, and just for a fleeting second, I believe it is you.
The person beside me will never be you again.
I made some coffee, but it'll never be as good as
you used to make it.
I can still remember the smell of that cafe you used to work at on mainstreet.
I know you always liked when I visited you.
I dream of waking up and you being there, alive, breathing.
I still wear the ring you gave me on our wedding day.
I still drink out of your mug, even though you always said you hated sharing.
I know you didn't.
You aren't here to tell me that anymore, though.
I still listen to the songs in your playlist.
I still talk to Mercedes, Kurt, and Quinn.
But it hurts.
It hurts so much, Brittany.
I remember sitting with you in that dreary hospital room, listening to the heart monitor beep, and beep, and beep, and beep.
I was holding your hand, and then visiting hours were over.
I can't remember what your face looked like when I said goodbye.
I can't remember your voice.
I can't remember your touch.
I know I've already lost you, but it feels like I'm losing more pieces of you-- no- of us everyday.
I miss you, Brittany. I can never collect my thoughts, because they're all still with you.
I miss your constant rambles about space, and how you would say how cool it was that we could go.
I miss you talking about the planets, I remember how your favorite was Earth. You said it was because it was unique, it had so many different things on it, good and bad, you said it was beautiful, and I agreed.
I agreed with everything you said, you were everything.
You always talked about how you revolved around me like I was the Earth.
But, no, Brittany, You are the Earth and I am the moon.
You are the planet I revolve around.
Love, Moon