The epitome of Love is loving although you are not loved in return.
You try to see things from the other perspective, you grasp it, you understand it, you respect it, but them again your perspective reigns:
it's not every day that you find what we found together that's why it is worth to build upon it and break all past perspectives, it's worth the plunge.
Maybe I am right and this is the path to follow but no matter what I do, an essential part I learned in loving you –learnt the hard way– is letting you be.

The last time I saw you was a rather disturbing experience that created a series of infinite questions that still resonate in my soul:
is she still the same?
will we ever be together?
why did it all happen anyway?
is she in love with someone else?
should I just let her be, just like that?
what if I never find someone who completed me like she did?
was it all an illusion?
have I just fucked up another time?
did I scare her away?
are these "messages" to me or someone else?
will she find comfort elsewhere?

You shove all this to the back of the farthest spot in your head.
You "move on" by trying to forget, or at least by making the time pass.
You meet people, you "experiment", you feel bad, you feel sad, you feel blessed, you can't stop thinking about the farthest spot at the back of your head, you surrender to her face, one that lit when she was with you, one that brightens your blackest days.
You live, to a certain extent.

Then, one day, you see that her hand holds another's.
It may be your hand, eternalized in a furtive shot taken in the past.
But you are somehow sure it is not.
Are you?
You're lost.
A box that you wanted buried in your deepest depths opens:
You thought you would be OK with her finding peace and comfort anywhere, with anyone, even if that meant not with you.
But you are so far from being OK and the thought of it just rips you from the inside.

I am an ellipsis of what could have been,
I am an ellipsis of Love I hold for you,
I am an ellipsis of dreams with you,
I ...