I have loved him this way ever since I can remember. Endlessly. I've always promised that it's always been him.  If we had never met, it would still be him, and I swear I would have died alone.  And I doubt he cares, but waking up knowing he loved me had always been so gratifying.  That alone had been a reason to look forward to everyday.  Now I wake up in tears because my dreams of him seemed so real.  Every morning I have to re-accept he is gone and start the process all over again.  He's not mine and never will be again.  But I'm still his and I'd rather die alone than belong to another someone