If I left you right now, would you miss me?
If I up and left without a word, because you know I hate goodbyes, would you remember me next week when you read your books and write your reports?  I remember you with your glasses pushed up on the bridge of your nose, ignoring the world, pencil tapping an impatient beat on your notebook, ignoring me completely.  Would you remember my name?  Would you remember my voice?  How I looked?  Probably not, but just maybe…  Maybe you would.  I can only wish you would.
If I up and left without a word, because you know I hate goodbyes, would you sit alone and remember all of the laughs we had like I do?  I remember when I used to sing to you, change all of the words and mess up the tune.  I remember how you would always praise my singing, tell me how good I was, chuckle under your breath at me.  I would always turn away with a shake of my head, but you should know that I always did it to hide my smile and the embarrassing heat that used to rise to my cheeks.  We would laugh it off; your deep baritone mixing with my high pitched cackle.  Would you remember all of those times like I do?  Probably not.  I can always hope you would.
If I up and left without a word, because you know I hate goodbyes, would
fill the hole I would leave?  Would she love you and treat you the way I did?  Would you love her and treat her the way you did me?  I remember the moments when I was your best friend, when you needed to talk or needed help studying.  Is she enough for that?  Is she enough to replace me and take my place?  I remember the soft kiss we shared before you stopped talking to me.  You said it was a mistake!  You left a you sized hole in me that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fill!  Did that kiss even affect you?  Did it hurt you to say it meant nothing?  It really hurts me to say and to think that it probably didn’t.  And now it will sound awful to say that I wish it did.
If I up and left without a word, because you know I hate goodbyes, would you look for me?  I remember when I first saw you with her.  I know you thought I probably didn’t see you two, but I did.  For the first time in forever after that, you came looking for me.  That filled the hole seeing you two together had made until I saw you with her again.  It tore me apart!  You don’t understand how bad it hurt me!  You don’t understand how painful and horrible that was!  So, would you look for me if I left you?  Would me disappearing tear you apart like seeing you with her tore me apart?  I’m sorry, but I really hope it does.  It probably won’t though, and you probably won’t notice that I’m gone.  You probably won’t feel a thing.  You might even be glad.  But, you know what?  I can always dream that you would.
If I up and left without a word, because you know I hate goodbyes, would you cry?  I have only seen you cry one, when I was in that accident and you thought that I wouldn’t wake up again, that I had left you.  I had woken up, sore and confused, to see you sobbing in the chair next to me.  I had been out for six months at that point, you had told me, living off of machines.  My parents had talked about pulling the plug, had told you that they were going to because I had flatlined far too much and it was cruel to keep me alive like that.  When you had seen me, you didn’t stop and it seemed to just add fuel to the fire.  You told me you couldn’t, you wouldn’t lose me.  You told me that you couldn’t live without me.  What a joke that was.  So, now that you are losing me, have lost me, will you cry?  Probably not because you probably won’t even notice, and if you do, you probably won’t care.  And you know what, that hurts more than anything I have ever experienced.
But, I guess we’ll see because here I am, writing this to you as a way of telling you I’m gone.  I’m leaving.  I’m showing you exactly what and how I feel.  I’m going to leave you behind and alone and I will never come back.
So, how do you feel now?
Do you miss me now that I’m gone?