To whoever is lucky enough to be next,
...
She's scared of the dark sometimes; she has nightmares, bad ones. Hold her. Hold her so tight, stroke her hair, kiss her forehead, and don't sleep without lingering your arm around her limbs, PLEASE DON'T LET HER GO.
...
She'll love to laugh, make her laugh. She throws her head back and her hair brushes off her shoulders and her eyes light up so bright it's indescribable; you'll know what I'm talking about.
She's insecure, heartbreakingly so. She always has been and she probably always will be. She'll put the duvet over her body and she'll turn the other way if you look at her for too long, but she is beautiful. In every light, in every season, at every time of the day and in every dimension of the universe, she's beautiful. Remind her, every day. She'll blush and shrug it off but she'll smile when she thinks about it lying in bed that night, and THAT'S WORTH THE STARS IN THE SKIES
...
Love her because she'll love you. She doesn't do anything in halves, she'll love you wholeheartedly and she'll do it so very gracefully. Love every single one of her flaws, if you ever manage to find any, love her how she deserves and don't make my mistake.
YOURS TRULY,
I LOST HER