I remember the first time Phil and I met like it was yesterday. I had been pretty much stalking him on social media for a long time. Finally we exchanged Skypes, and we would talk for hours at a time. Finally we decided to meet in real life. We each got on a train, and I remember waiting at the train station, hands in my pockets, waiting awkwardly. 

"Dan Howell?" I turned around to see Phil smiling at me. My God, he was even more beautiful in person. "Phil!" I yelled and hugged him, basically tackling him. "It's so amazing to finally meet you in real life."

I remember Phil laughing his adorable laugh. "I'm so happy to meet you, too, Dan! Do you want to go get lunch or something? Then maybe film a video?"

I eagerly agreed, and we laughed over a stereotypical British lunch of fish and chips. We talked about everything, and I realized that Phil was literally the most perfect person on this planet.

I remember our first kiss like it was just hours ago. We were filming the first Phil Is Not On Fire. I remember Phil sitting on his bed in the middle of the video and patting the spot next to me, signaling me to come and sit with him. I went and sat down, and I remember Phil just looking at me with his beautiful blue eyes. "Dan," he said. "Promise you won't be mad or anything. If you don't feel the same, you can just tell me."

I turned my head to one side. "Why would I be mad? I could never-" but I was cut off by Phil's lips on my own. I kissed him back, and after a couple seconds I pulled away. "Phil, I could never be mad at you for this. Because I feel the same way." Phil smiled, and we laid down, kissing and cuddling for a bit.

I sat upright quickly, remembering something. "Phil! We left the camera on!" I grabbed the paper we had with all of the questions from Phil's subscribers. "We still have more questions to answer!"

Phil laughed, his tongue sticking out slightly. "Oh, well. We can just edit it out." 

But most of all, I remember the day Phil left me. That memory sticks out and affects everything I do. I can't make a cup of coffee without thinking of Phil. I can't leave the apartment without thinking of Phil. Hell, I can't breathe without thinking of Phil. But where the thought of Phil used to make me happy, it pains me. 

I don't think I can ever forgive myself for what I did, and I don't think Phil will ever forgive me either.