The other night,

not too long ago,

my friend and I were laying down to sleep after a long day at work.

A few minutes after our "I love you"s and "Goodnight"s, 

I heard her whisper through the darkness. 

"I know you're still awake. What are you thinking about?"

I paused and watched the blades of the fan spin. Finally, I responded. 

"Would you like the honest answer or the easily digestible one?"

"Whichever you're ready to tell me," she answered.

I paused again, then took a deep breath.

"There is a little graveyard in my heart for all the people I've loved and lost and I can't help but visit it every night before I fall asleep."

I closed my eyes and I realized it was true.

If you head south past loneliness, disappointment, shame, and fear,

you can find it there,

in the bottommost corner. 

There lie all of the people I correspond with only on Christmas,

the people I no longer correspond with at all, 

and the people with which I couldn't if I tried. 

Many of the most significant characters in the history of my life lie there now:

there's my two best friends from kindergarten with which I used to split my chocolate bar everyday at lunch,

the cousin I met only once at a Thanksgiving brunch who passed away before I got to tell her how grown-up she'd made me feel,

the middle school friends I used to make cry laughing at two in the morning with the stupidest inside jokes,

my favorite seventh grade teacher who took my yearbook home the evening of signing day so she'd have the time to write me something special,

the man at the candy shop who gave me unsolicited - nonetheless appreciated - advice about my prospective life path,

the boy I used to work with who I always wanted to kiss, but never did, 

a best friend and a second family I never thought I'd lose.

I visit all these lost loves daily, remembering the beauty they brought to my life and the many ways they did so. 

I remember the conversations, the late nights, the drives, and the space they held for me when I needed it - 

the way they made my world feel kinder when I wasn't sure I could face it. 

Knowing them, loving them, and missing them has changed me,

and I bring this ever-evolving version of myself wherever I go. 

So, dear friend, since you've asked, I've answered truthfully. 

Now, when I tell you I love you from the bottom of my heart,

know that this is what I mean:

I love you with all the hope those before you have planted in my heart. 

I love you with the wisdom they've granted me, 

the courage they've inspired in me, 

and the countless lessons they've taught me. 

I love you knowing one day you, too, might join the little graveyard

and I will celebrate you the same way I do now,

but with a whisper of regret. 

I love you with the power of everyone I have loved before, 

with each and every tombstone of the little graveyard in my heart.