Avery drabble

She was my everything
I met her when she was 19. I looked 25, but I was really in my two hundreds.
She was breath taking. Gorgeous. Bright green eyes, long golden hair. I towered over her in height by at least a head.
She had a laugh that made you laugh. Her voice was like music.
I loved her with everything I was. Her mother adored me, her father respected me. Everything was perfect.
The days I spent without her, I ached inside. It was a physical pain comparable to the tortures I withstood in Italy. But when I went back to her, I could breathe again.
She was my reason to live, and I lost her.