Can we not write about hats?

You said, Nelson, that hats may be our next prompt.
And I really don't want to write about hats.
Because if I write about hats, I'll have to write about him.
And if I write about him, I'll be like every other tourist in Paris.
'Look, hun, let's kiss under the Eiffel Tower!!'
'I remember when we kissed under the Eiffel Tower...'
'*sob* now that he's gone I can't even look at the Eiffel Tower!!!'
That's not me.
But somehow in the last few months it's who I've become.
If we had to write about hats I'd have to talk about how the only time he didn't wear a hat
was when we had to say goodbye in front of his grandparents in the church building.
Except for that one other time when he didn't wear a hat
and I learned the new definition of VL. Veteran. Lips.

I used to always steal his hat.
He would wrestle me to the ground (no mercy!!!) to get it back, laughing.
One day he let me keep it on my head.
That's when I knew.
I think that's when he knew too.

*shudder*

did I really do that?
Did I really say that.
well, crap.
I am a tourist.
I am.
I must be,
if I'm writing about why I don't want to write about him. And his hats.
But I desperately want to find more in Paris than the good food.
I want so badly to deeply enjoy Paris, even though seeing the monuments alone aches, aches, aches...
How can I stop being so pathetic and how can I truly enjoy it
when I have to curl into a ball to hold myself together
just because someone passed me in the hall today
wearing the same hat as he did on our last date?

I'm not like this.
Well....
I guess I wasn't.
But I am now.
sorry.

the thing is... he's the first person that made me feel like more than just me.
And now I'm crawling blindly on the floor, desperately searching for that feeling again.
because going back to being just me...
sucks.
It really does.

Here's to being just Korra.
Maybe someday I might finally be able to be me without the only or the just attached.
Because maybe,
just maybe,
I'm worth more than 'just'.
To him,
to them,
to myself,
maybe even to you.

I hope I can become more than 'just me' to you.