Every day, I would tell my Nala how much I loved her. It was not just a routine, and not just because
I should. Every time we would part ways for any reason, or see each other again, wake up, go to sleep,
or just because... I would tell her how beautiful she was and how much I loved her. I always knew that
there might be a moment where I wish I had told her. You never know when that last moment might be.
Unfortunately, I had to then learn that this wasn't just a paranoid way to think. Luckily, the last
time we spoke, I got to tell her that I loved her, kiss her cheek, and put her hair behind her ear.
This section includes the notes I'd write to her if she were still here, and some simply because she
isn't.
Dear Nala:
I think about you every second of the day. I talk to you and plead with you every moment I'm alone to give me a sign - any sign - that you're out there. That you're okay.
Dear Nala:
This is how we'd sometimes begin sentences to each other when we knew the other wasn't paying attention. You might be "in the zone" working on something, and I'd be at my desk in our office across from your desk. I'd randomly say, "Dear Nala. I love you the mostest." Most times, I could only see your face from your eyes up, but I could tell you were smiling the biggest smile ever. You'd look at me with that smile, then cock your head to the side so I could see that you were smiling. Then you'd reply, "Dear Simba. You're lying. You know I love you the mostest." I miss those days. I miss all of our days.