I don’t know you. I don’t know your likes, your dislikes, your interests, or your pet peeves. I don’t know your hobbies, your talents, your dreams, or your aspirations. I don’t know your family, or your friends, or where you live. I don’t know your occupation, or whether you’re rich or poor. I don’t know your favorite music, books, or movies. I don’t know if we have anything in common. I don’t know your beliefs, your political stance, your sexual orientation, or your religion. But I love you anyway. I worked tirelessly to save you. Every ounce of my being, my mind, my heart, my soul, I poured into you. In that moment, I didn’t care about our commonalities or our differences. I didn’t care about your mistakes or your triumphs. All I cared about was you. Your life. Your chance. And you didn’t get it. Despite my efforts. Despite my sweat and tears. Despite my hope and wishful thinking. Despite my prayers. I couldn’t save you. All I knew about you was your name and your birthday. But I loved you anyway. And if I could bring you back, I would. You changed my life. And the two little facts I know about you will be engraved on my heart forever. Maybe one day, I’ll see you again.