Ashlee,

It has been a long time since I have seen you and in all that time I would have expected that I would have just simply forgotten about you. That has not been the case. I still think about you today and you creep on my thoughts when I least expect it. There are times that I think how much you would enjoy being here in my tiny misadventures. Every adventure I go on is not the same without you by my side.

The city has lost it's life. The streets have become bland.

It was when I walked them with you that things energized with life. I remember how we used to walk and you used to laugh as how I hated dogs but for some reason in all of our walks there was always a dog that gravitated towards me. It was how you used to look at the city with awe, how your eyes gleamed with excitement, how contagious your innocent view of the world made every experience you shared with me special.

I miss those nights that we used to spend together, when we used up one of our mangoes that we had in reserve for special talks. Staying up late sharing about anything we could think up under the smell of Chamomile Tea, your favorite. I still want to taste your special Egg Drop Soup with that special salad you used to make with those sweet nuts. I would still ask for that meal if you were still here. A taste that I have lost forever.

There are times that you creep up on my dreams, in them you are still mad at me. Your face full of pride and no mercy. It is a tough image to look at, but I still watch as it is the only time that I recognize that I have not forgotten what you look like. How your expressions speak for you. How your quiet demeanor was a book of sentences on what you wanted to say. Your posture, the way you fixed your hair (ponytail always meant that you meant business), what you wore, the look in your eyes.

I think of how you would correct my grammar as you read over my shoulder as I type every word. Judging all of my keystrokes in precise discipline. Saving each word from the unforgivable and unrelenting force of nature that it is the Backspace. Treating each letter with the outmost care as if they were their own little people in their own little world.

I wonder if you still eat Mochi, the sweet ice cream treat I got you hooked on. We used to eat the whole pack if we did not control ourselves, so you took it unto yourself to monitor our Mochi death count. It became a fun game to try and convince you that we should eat just one more while we were right in front of the fridge. My chaotic anarchy vs your holy control. It was fun to dare you into situations. What it was so enjoyable is knowing that you ended up enjoying your bad decisions because I opened up your view of the world little by little. That the world was not bad. It was only misunderstood.

I enjoyed that you did not know how to dance. For me it meant that I could hold you tighter and closer as I maneuvered you in each step.

I deleted our messages in order to avoid pain and only if I could get them back to remember of what we used to write about each day.

Sadly, each day I die when you are not around. Even though I still end up cracking jokes and making friends. It does not change this aching feeling in my chest that gets worse each day. When you invade my thoughts, you bring a tsunami with you. Everything about you seems like fiction.

I think that you have already moved on, even writing that thought brings with it this burning pressure to my chest that it is very much real.
My words will never get to you. That door closed.

Ashlee, I am doing better but me doing better does not correlate on how much I miss you in my life. I won’t never be the same because of you, without you. I could rule the world, but I would still think about you this way. That is because I love you. For your worst parts and your best parts. Even when you disappointed me I knew that tomorrow was another day and no matter what you used to do for good or for bad, I knew that I had time, patience and a lot of compassion to always hug you and care for you when you needed it the most. For when you called me at one in the morning crying, to when you broke your dumb toe because for some odd reason you slammed a really light weight can of beans into your foot, which was a surprising feat that still to this day I wonder how the heck did you cause so much damage to your foot with a can of beans.

But I remember holding you to my chest as your legitimately cried and how I looked at you while you were in pain and cracked a joke about it, which you laughed while still crying.

I miss going to the museum with you every first Friday of the month because it was free, I miss those car fieldtrips with you and how I used to grab your face whenever I Can’t Feel My Face by The Weeknd came up on the radio and how you used to get so annoyed whenever I used to sing along to every word from Don’t Mind by Kent Jones:

She said "Hola, ¿Cómo estás?, I said "Konnichiwa"
She said "Pardon my French", I said "Bonjour Madame"
Then she said "Sak pase" and I said "N'ap boule"

And especially the dumb joke on how I grabbed you and pulled your body closed to mine whenever Talking Body by Tove Love came up, and I used to laugh at how I always caught you of guard by it.
It was fun to be able to tease you in such a loving manner.

Every Friday how I begged you to go to the theater with me and grab frozen yogurt right after. You thought it was excessive, but I thought it was tradition.

We still did not finish that video game we started, Broken Age. I deleted it on my PlayStation because I feel like I am cheating on you if I found out the ending before you.

Every Superhero movie is not the same without you.
Ashlee, I miss you and everyday I wish that you were still here and that I could treat you better than anything I just mentioned. That I could cook for you, support you on your career and even hold your hand every day within every moment possible. I wish I could still learn sign language from you. I wish that I could still talk to you in Spanish whenever we slept together and I woke in the middle of the night talking to you in Spanish because in my mind everyone I really care about speaks Spanish so you had to know what I said even though you did not understand a lick of it. It was funny how you would put your hand in my mouth half asleep to get me to shut up and go back to rest.

It was those moments that made me love you. It was not that you were composed, professional, religious, well-mannered, girly or any quality like that. It was that you were sweet. It was the way you added to my life in every way that I just mentioned.

If there was a God, he would let us meet again and let those beautiful moments not be torn apart into an abyss.

If there was a God, maybe you would one day see that even though I made mistakes that I regret every single one, and that I would die happy if I could hold you for a minute.

I wish you are ok. I wish that you would think of me as much I think of you. And that you would shed a sweet tear like I do, when I think how much I really love you.
Honeybunny ( the nickname that was given to you by a charismatic waitress at a Buffalo Wild Wings) , I hope with all of my heart that you are doing what you love and know that I wish I would still be able to hear about how your career is going, and that right now I am telling you that you are good enough for it. That you have the heart for it. A big one.

With all of my love,
XXXXXXXX XXXXXXXX