I think that once you love someone, the feeling never goes away. So, when they pass away in a car accident, three years later you still feel it. You can still remember what their voice sounded like, or what their hands felt like wrapped around yours, or how their heartbeat sounded when they held you close.
Or maybe, when they leave you, you can still remember how their clumsy, cold hands felt against your warm bare skin in the backseat of a car. How they almost always whispered their "I love you's," even though once they leave you realize it was because it was a secret that they didn't want anyone to know except you. Love shouldn't be a secret but sometimes it is.
Or even though while you still reach for the phone to call them after you've had a bad day, or you play the voicemails over and over and over, or you look for their car in the parking lot of Firehouse Subs, you still can't bring yourself to let go. Because even though it's over, it was fun while it lasted. And sometimes remembering the past is easier than being in the moment.
I keep having this dream where I climb a really tall tree to try and touch the stars, and then I fall down and everyone thinks I'm dead, but I can hear what they're saying, and feel it when they touch me, but I can't open my eyes or move. Then, the only way to save me is to find the boy that I love and get him to hold my hand, but he's dead, so I'm stuck and everyone believes that I'm dead. But when everyone goes to sleep, then I can move, and see, and hear, but I can't feel. So I search for the boy that I love, because maybe, just maybe, he's searching for me, too.