I love you in ways I can barely speak, in whispers too fragile for the world to hear. My love for you is a quiet storm, a force that rages within me, tearing at the seams of my soul. I can’t live without you—this truth pounds in my chest like a second heartbeat, a rhythm that I can’t escape. Every moment without you is a shadow, a hollow ache that gnaws at the edges of my being.

I see you slipping away, like sand through my fingers, and I am helpless to stop it. The thought of losing you—of you being lost to me forever—fills me with a sorrow so deep it feels like drowning. I love you with a desperation that scares me, with a need so fierce it burns. I cannot imagine a world where you are not, where your voice doesn’t soften the hard edges of my days, where your presence doesn’t anchor me in this chaotic sea.

Without you, I am adrift, untethered. The thought of you gone rips the air from my lungs, leaving me gasping in a world suddenly too vast, too empty. I love you, and I can’t live without you. These words feel too small, too fragile, to hold the weight of what I feel, of what it means to love you and face the possibility of losing you.

But still, I say them, hoping somehow you’ll hear, hoping they’ll reach you wherever you are, and pull you back to me. Because without you, I am nothing but a hollow echo of what could have been, a shadow chasing after a light that’s fading fast. I love you, and I can’t live without you. This truth is my only certainty, even as I watch you slip further away.