I wish there was something in the world that could help me. It’s impossible for me not to think about her. I wake up, she’s there. I go to school, she actually is there. I come home, she’s there. I shut my eyes, she’s there.

I don’t think there will every be a minute where she isn’t on my mind—the feeling of missing somebody so sincerely is painful. It’s a pain that’s quite delicate, but its power is immense.

My mind wanders mindlessly into thought about her; wishing how only one thing could make my life feel seamless again. What she was to me is hard to put into words, but it goes something like this: she wasn’t just my girlfriend, but my best friend. I could tell her anything—quite literally—and she’d listen and understand me like no other person can. The way she’d smile at me, each time, made me feel like the luckiest boy on the planet. It was as if her touch and her presence was like magic.

I don’t think I’ll ever quite realise or come to terms with my life without her. Although I’m still me, my life isn’t the same. My life isn’t whole nor complete and the vacant gap which was once occupied by the most perfect girl on earth will always be open—for her.

I think the statement “You don’t fully accept and empathise what something feels like to a person until you feel it yourself” is one of the most crucial ethics in modern-day life.

You can attempt to understand, but really, that’s all it is—an attempt.

The ability to be able to indulge and let your mind wander into the atmosphere of a classical piece of music is absolutely beautiful.

The power, strength and even authority a piece can uphold over your mind is just so immense.

Things like this often go unnoticed; it’s magnificent.