Missing Part

me, meant everything, he is the air I breathe, if he were to die it would be my last breath, as I glance down at my finger, I remember the promise, that has been engraved in my heart, as I look back, I remember every memory that we shared, I can remember when he first asked me out, and how happy we were, but before that I remember the excuses we made to hold each others hand, I look at this ring I got three months ago.

I'm sixteen. I'm looking for a way to get things off my chest and this is what I'm doing. I miss the man that I love.