It has been three or so hours since you sent my world flying into a million pieces.

I got in my car and just drove. I ended up at this beautiful beach ... there is a full moon so bright that it is lighting up my page. It is reflecting off the near perfect waves rolling in front of me.

Everything looks different, dull almost ... the air tastes different. I am sitting here and a constant image is playing in my mind's eye ... you and her, touching, tasting.

Why did I allow myself to dream? I just fell and before I knew it I couldn't see the shore anymore.

I dreamed of the day when you would come back into my life and claim what we once had, tell me that I was the one. But now someone else shall have your name ... your child ... you.

You've always spoken of marriage and your dreams of finding 'her.' I guess I was hoping it would be me. I was living off hope -- it had me chained, and now I am choking on the bone. I've always asked myself why I allowed myself to fall for someone who was never going to stay, and only now do I know the answer.

I believe that everyone we meet, everything we do, and everywhere we go makes us who we are and without the pure magic of falling in love with you I would not be who I am today. And I love who I am today.

If I had it to do all over I would still fall as hard as I did and never look back. What we shared was beautiful and unique and nothing can take that away from us. But everything happens for a reason and if we were meant to be, you would be in my arms right now ... but you're not and now I must finally move on.

I know that out there somewhere is a guy just waiting to fall in love with me. I know this to be true. But for now my life is totally mine and no one else's, every decision I make from now on is for me. Loving you was like a chain around my ankle, weighing me down, but today you set me free and the world has a different glow, a world knowing that I shall never be with you.

I loved you Steve. Make your life extraordinary! And know that I shall be in that place between dreaming and awake ...

Forever,

Judith