Unloved

by Katy Regnery

He lost an r. I lost my heart.

I long for someone. In my loneliest moments, I long for someone so fiercely, it aches. I want someone to hold me, to whisper in my ear, to braid their fingers through mine and breathe against my skin. I want to know love again. In fact, I actively yearn for it, though I can’t actually imagine accepting it.

I wish I was the sun so I could shine down on her, so I could examine every peak and valley of her face until I have it memorized and can recall it at any lonesome moment: the sad, beautiful, green-eyed girl from the forest.

I am screaming for my future. I am screaming because I know I want it and someone is taking it away from me.

Anyone with half a brain loves romance novels, and the rest are lying.

There is no me without you. . . . and it’s not like anything I’ve ever felt before.

As my lips tilt slowly up into a smile, his do the same, and I feel like I am looking at my reflection, except Cassidy isn’t me and I’m not him. We are bound through understanding. We are bathed in grace.

There’s something about this place—and about Cassidy Porter—that heals the roughest, jagged, most wounded parts of me, and I’m desperately unhappy when I think of leaving him and going back to the “real” world.

I love her. I will love her until the sky falls. Until the sun and moon fail to rise. Until Katahdin crumbles. I will love her forever.

You are, and will forever be, my life’s greatest treasure, and I will still be loving you on the day I die, Brynn Cadogan.