I have written for you before,
Conversing as though you were sitting across from me;
Waiting for your whimsical, engaging response;
Your subtle laughter, your keen use of vocabulary;
I have longed to hear your voice, speak to me.

I have written for you before,
Hoping that my words would find you…wherever you are,
And bring you back home;
A place where we know you belong;
Back to the life that you built with me;
I have longed to feel you near, for without you I am incomplete.

I have written for you before,
Initially with an optimistic vision;
Knowing that my faith was the foundation of all good things;
And all good things you bring;
So I dare not cease to write, to hope, and to dream.

I have written for you before,
In the time before I was told that you would never write back;
Before my letters were returned to me -
I was told that not a single word reached you;
In the moments when I didn’t know the truth,
I wrote to you… every day, I would write for you.

I have written for you before,
But now I write solely for myself –
For my sanity - writing to you will always make me happy.
Though I know that you will never hear my voice, see my words, or feel what I feel,
I know of no other way by which to live.
So I will continue, to write, to hope, and to wait,
Until that unfortunate day;

When my hands can no longer raise my pen;
When my mind struggles to find the words to express how I feel.
When I can no longer hear your voice and I forget your name;
When I do not notice that you are no longer here.

I have written for you before,
And here I am, writing for you again.