I could tell Scott was a little off his game this week. What I couldn't tell you, is why. He always seemed nervous, or maybe excited, fidgeting with his hands, bouncing on his feet. I knew he was always a little more hyper than most, but even this was a bit unusual.

He had also been extra sweet lately. Not that he isn't always, but, something is definitely different. He was always getting up early for Starbucks, attempting (and usually failing) at making me breakfast in bed, sending me random 'I love you' texts, bringing me flowers and gluten free snacks. Lots of little things.

I just chalked it up to him being excited to fly home and meet his nephew, and that he would miss me while he was gone. He'd been talking non stop about the baby, always showing me pictures his family sent him. It was cute to see him so giddy over a baby.

While I was really genuinely happy he was going home to see his family and meet the baby, I hated that he'd be leaving me for so long. Okay, so it was only a week, but we've never been apart for more than a couple days, even before we were dating. I will never understand how people do long distance relationships. Being without Scott for a week will be torture, I couldn't imagine going any longer than that.

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We had to leave at the ass-crack of dawn for his flight, and yet he still had Starbucks waiting for me when I woke up.

The drive there was silent, my free hand chugging the coffee, Scott's free hand on my thigh. I was hoping he would miss me even half as much as I'd miss him.

"I'm gonna miss you, ya know." I looked up at him as we walked into the airport, swinging our interlocked hands.

"I'll miss you too, but it's only a week Mitchie. Besides, I have big plans for when I come back." He smirked at me, pulling me into one of his giant bear hugs.

"And you're gonna leave without telling me?" I tightened my hold on him.

"Obviously. Okay, I'm gonna be late. I'll text you when I land. I love you." He leaned down to put his forehead against mine, but only for a second before he kissed me.

"Love you too Stringbean." I squeezed him one last time and watched him walk through security.

I got back home and went straight back to bed. When I woke up later I headed towards my bathroom to get ready for lunch with the boys and when I opened my drawer there was a little folded up piece of paper in it. I unfolded it only to find it was Scott's chicken scratch.

You are beautiful. I didn't think it was possible for someone to look as perfect as you do.

He was so fucking cheesy, and I loved it. I smiled the whole time I was getting ready, heart fluttering at the gesture, and the words. I figured when he texted me that he landed I would let him know that I found the note, which wasn't long after that.

King: Landed, waiting for baggage.

Queen: Good! I found something today.

King: What?

Queen: A note.

King: What does it say?

Queen: Don't act like you don't know what it says. It was very sweet :)

King: No, I really don't know what it says. Which one is it? Whatever it says, I mean it, 1000%

Queen: You mean there's more? Scott!

King: Maybe. Have to run, dad's here. Love you, call you later.

Queen: You are so sneaky. Love you too babe.

I didn't have time to go looking around for anymore notes, but I was definitely curious. I made a mental note to look for them later. I swear that boy will be the death of me if he keeps all this cute shit up.

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I was woken up in the middle of the night by my phone ringing. I assumed it was Scott, so i answered without looking, only to hear his mom on the line. I don't even remember the conversation. I just remember hearing her sobbing, choking out the words that he was gone.

I just laid there in shock, staring at the ceiling. I couldn't comprehend that he was gone. He wasn't gone. I just talked to him. I just saw him not long ago. He's not gone. This is a nightmare. I'll wake up in the morning and call him and it'll all be okay.

I tried going to sleep, but I couldn't. So I called his phone, figuring that if I could get this sorted out I'd be able to calm down and sleep. It rang multiple times before it went straight to voicemail. So I tried again, he was probably sleeping, didn't hear it. Voicemail again. I was beginning to panic at this point, my heart pounding so fast it hurt, when there was a knock at my door. It was 3am, so I wasn't sure if it was a drunk at the wrong apartment or what, but I went to answer it. Kirstie was on the other side, eyes blood shot, hair a mess, still in her pajamas.

And that's when I knew. That's when I knew he was gone, and I would never get my forever with him.

I fell to the floor and cried. I cried until I thought I couldn't anymore. But it just kept coming. The thought of never seeing him again, the thought of never talking to him again. I lost my best friend, my soulmate. He was ripped right out of my life.

I laid in his bed all day. I shut my phone off, closed all the curtains, and just curled in a ball, wrapped in his blanket, in his smell. And that's when I found another folded up piece of paper, under his pillow. It was his writing again.

I could never picture my life without you, nor do I want too. I want you with me, by my side, forever.

I stared at it. Not sure at this point whether to laugh at the irony of it all, or scream. I chose the latter, screaming and frantically ripping it into pieces. Was this some fucking joke? That I would find THIS note, of all notes, after he died? I threw all the pieces in the trash, then sat on the floor. The familiar tightness in my chest that wouldn't go away only became stronger. My lungs were constricting. It hurt to breathe. My head was pounding, my throat was sore. I curled into a ball on the floor, pounding my fist into the ground as the tears soaked the carpet, before I sat up and realized what I just did. I scrambled around the house trying to find tape, glue, anything. I dumped the trash and gathered all the pieces up again. The never ending tears kept dropping on to the pieces of paper as I tried to put it back together. I needed this. It was a piece of my Scott left behind and I ruined it. I did my best to piece it together and placed it with the other note.

The tears kept falling as I tore the apartment up, trying to find more notes. I flipped couch cushions, threw clothes out of my drawers, ripped pages out my music books. I turned the apartment upside down and came up with five more notes.

I love waking up to you, even when your hair is going in every direction, even the morning breath, your morning voice, I love it all.

I love how special you make me feel, like I'm the only person in the world who matters to you. Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky, you're too good to me. I think sometimes you know me better than I do.

I love when you cook, especially when you're proud of yourself. I will never get tired of hearing you say "I'm a god damn domestic goddess."

I love how you fit so perfectly with me when we cuddle and watch a movie, or when we sleep.

I love kissing you. It's been two years and I still get butterflies, my stomach flip flops, and I can't stop the smile that forms every time.

I was so torn on how to feel about these notes. They would've have been so sweet to read under any other circumstance. But now? Now they're painful. These are things he wanted to say, his intimate thoughts, but never got the chance to do it in person. I wanted more than anything to be able to hear him say these things. I sat on the floor, surrounded by all our junk strewn across the room, with all the notes laid out nice and neat in front of me, taunting me. Taunting me with his love that I'll never get to know again, never get to feel again. No more 'I love yous." No more of his hugs or kisses. No more waking up to his blue eyes. The weight of my new reality was crashing down on me. It was all gone. I felt dehydrated from all the crying, I didn't think there would be any tears left, but I couldn't make it stop. I yanked at my hair, and crumbled to the floor again.

I stayed there all night.

I stuffed all the notes at the bottom of my desk drawer, so they'd never see the light of day again. I hated them, but I couldn't throw them out. They brought too much pain. A constant reminder of what once was, of how happy I used to be. I could only hope I wouldn't find anymore. I never got to ask how many there were...

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The month's came and went, excruciatingly slow. People told me it would get better with time, but it doesn't. I had days where I could breathe, where I could easily plaster a fake smile on my face and pretend that things were okay. I could escape the pain sometimes, but it never failed to come hurling back to crush me. Everyday I come home to our apartment, the deafening silence reminding me that he's not here, reminding me that I'm alone, reminding me that the person I love most is no longer with me. I'm still living, trying to pick up the pieces of my life, without him. Without the person who always helped me do just that, the person who would've never let the pieces fall apart to begin with. The problem was, I couldn't put the pieces back together no matter how hard I tried. He took the biggest piece when he died. I'm never getting it back.

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It had been a particularly rough day that day. Poor Kirstie was really trying everything she could to help me, and I appreciated it, really, but the more she tried, the worse I felt. I got home after a long day with her, grabbed some wine, and went looking through my records for something to listen too. I took the Beyoncé record out and a little piece of folded paper slipped out with it. I stood there, looking at it, like it was something that could jump up and eat me. I hadn't looked at the notes since I put them away the day he died. I contemplated my options. Should I read it or just put it in the drawer where the rest of the notes are? I sat down in front of it, with my glass of wine, and just glared at it, like I could make it vanish. Oh I wanted it to disappear. I wanted this all to disappear and for Scott to walk through that door like nothing ever happened. It wasn't until I finished my glass of wine that I decided to read it. I picked it up and held it in my hand for a minute, making sure this is what I really wanted to do. My hands were shaking as I opened it.

I love how you always know what you want, and don't settle for anything less, even if that leads us to butt heads and have petty fights. You should never settle, you deserve everything.

I didn't know what to think. At this point I was numb. I had to be to continue living life. So reading the note, seeing his writing again, didn't even phase me. I felt nothing, and I couldn't let myself let my guard down. I worked so hard to build it up, blocking out the pain.

He was right though. I'll never settle. No one could love me like him, and I won't be able to love anyone but him. And I used to have everything, when he was here with me.

I stayed holed up in my apartment for the next week.

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I found a note when I was going through Scott's things, finally getting the nerve to pack some of it up to send home to his parents. I put on one of his dress shirts that I wanted to keep and found it in the pocket.

Will you marry me?

It was like Scott himself just slapped me across my face, punched me in my throat, kicked me in my stomach. It was like all the oxygen left the room, I couldn't catch my breath. If I was doing any better with all of this, I have certainly just backtracked. All the walls I had to meticulously built up around me crumbled. I couldn't stop the tears, the words on his note becoming blurry. He wanted to marry me. He really did want to spend the rest of his life with me. It made sense now why he was being so weird before he left, he was nervous about proposing. Like I would've said no.

All I could do was sit there and picture all the things that would've happened in our future, what should've happened. We'd get married. We'd move into a house. We'd adopt two kids. We'd be a family. We'd grow old together. We'd spoil our grandchildren. We'd love each other until the end.

All the things we don't get to have. All the things that were taken from us. It wasn't fair. None of this was fair. Not to Scott. Not to me.

Things were supposed to be different for us.

We had a fairytale love story, but it was cut short before we could get our happy ending.

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Hope that was painful enough Julia.