An open letter to the guy that isn't coming back

It's been five months since you left me after the three and a half years we spent together. Making memories, making future plans, making love. That's what we had, (or so i thought); innocent, pure, teenage love. It's been five months since we've spoken to each other and it still hurts every single day, just as bad as it did the day before. Everyone just keeps telling me it gets better with time but whoever said, "Time heals all wounds" is a damn lie because its been one hundred and twenty-one days since I last spoke to you and I can still feel your hands on my skin and I can still hear your voice floating into my ears like a sweet melody. I can still feel you sliding that cold engagement ring on my delicate finger and I can still feel that sting of pain when you took it back off. Ripped it away from me just like you were ripped out of my life. I still hear the hurtful words you screamed at me and I still feel the grip of your fingers around my wrists pushing me into the wall and on the ground. And i still hear those last words, "I love you, but i'm really done this time." Those words forever engraved in my heart and soul. But i still love you. I still love the thought of you and the i love the day we met when you held my hand so that i wouldn't fall on my butt because i am so clumsy, and i love the way you asked random questions when it got too silent for too long, i love the time we made out in the middle of the skating rink and got told to keep our lips to ourselves, i love the time you taught me to skateboard in your front yard, i love the time you asked me to prom and the time i asked you, i love the times when we went fishing when it was thirty degrees outside and you let me sit in your lap because i got too cold, i love the crawfish boils and all the new foods i tried at your house, i love the blanket that was "our blanket" that we never washed, i love the naps we took and the races we had that you always beat me in, i love the nights when we stayed out playing with Camo and i love the way you loved that dog more than anything else (besides me of course), and i love doors you opened and the fans you turned off and the windows you rolled up and the bugs you killed, i love the way you always knew how to fix the meals i burned and i love how you could find something to make out of three ingredients, i love how independent you were and how independent you made me, i love how we could be yelling at each other one second and laughing the next, i love all the tickle fights (even though i always begged you not to tickle me), and all the times we played hide and seek just so we could make out when we found each other, i love the roads we drove down and the nights we spent at the lake, i love the drinks we spilled in your truck and i love the ugly curtains we hung up when we moved in our apartment, i love the air mattress we slept on and the day we finally got a bed and how proud we felt, i love the potato salad your friends made and i love the way we sat around the living room because we had no chairs, i love the way youd check on me in the shower when something fell or when i was taking a while, i love the way youd get up and give me medicine when i was cramping or had a headache, i love the way you threw away all the candy and never let me eat it again because i choked and almost died, i love the way you separated our drinks in the fridge and the way you always made the bed perfectly and the way youd always stop by to see me at work when you were on the way home and i love the way youd hold my hand and kiss me in front of your parents and they way you stood up for me to your sister, i love the nights you stayed up arguing with me until i cried and then you played with my hair til i felt better, i love the things youd tell me when i was depressed and the way youd remind me that everything really was going to be okay. i could go on. forever. i just love you. and i wish i had you back. but its been one hundred and twenty-one days and you dont miss me one bit.