I think about calling you a lot, though I haven't dialed your number since you left.

If I ever do decide to call, I know one of two things would happen.

Scenario one: The phone rings for a split second and then I am greeted by an animated voice, saying "the number you have dialed is disconnected or no longer in service".

Scenario two: The phone rings for what feels like an eternity, and then I'm greeted by your friendly, familiar voice asking me to leave a message.

I haven't figured out which one I'd be able to stomach more.

Either way, the outcome remains unknown to me, I don't have the heart to do it.

If I am to dial and no one picks up, it'll only remind me that you really are gone.

But, if by some miracle you could pick up, here's what I'd say to you.

I love you.

I know you already know it, but I'd give anything to just tell you that one last time. To reiterate how much you meant to me.

I'd then tell you how much you're missed.

It's not the same without you, and I wish that you were with me every day. You're missed by everyone, and we're always talking about the happier times when you were here.

I would fill you in on all that has changed in my life.

Any accomplishments I've made, any failures, everything that's happened to me since you left.

I can picture you now, sitting in your chair with the phone in your hand. You're probably laughing at something silly that I did, or crying because of how proud you are of me.

I already know that if there's one thing you could say to me, it'd be this-

"If you wanted to talk to me you didn't have to call me.

I'm always with you.

I'm in the air that you breathe, the grass that you run on, the sun that shines on your skin.

Look for me every day. I'm always with you."

But still, I would give anything just to talk to you again. To hear your voice, one last time.