January 14, 2042.

I couldn't finish my last letter. Everything came back and I couldn't handle it. I can't fully understand that you're not here anymore.

That day, it started off normally. It was like every other day. I held your hand, not letting myself fully realize how hollow you looked. You were no longer you and I knew it. Was it selfish of me to wish that you would come back to me?

The heart monitor stopped beeping. Just for a moment. It flatlined for a split second and your eyes fluttered and I swear my heart stopped as well. 

But just like that, everything was back to normal as if it had never happened. But I called the nurse in, just in case. She used some technical terms, reassuring me that everything was fine. I think I knew, deep in my heart, that it wasn't going to be. But I listened to her anyway.

Not ten minutes later, it happened again. The machine flatlined and this time, it didn't return to normal.

I don't really remember what happened. It's more of a blur than anything else. All I know is one minute you were there, and then you weren't.

I miss you. Come back.

Please?