I cried as I wrote an eight page love letter. It was well after midnight, and I had to be up at four to go to work in the morning. My soul was storming because he was gone. Big drops fell on the notebook paper and blurred the lines. I never got a chance to talk to him, and he was gone. He was supposed to become my husband someday. I was secure in that, but I waited too long, and he was gone. This is not how the story was...