Letting you go.

I look back in anger and frustration today. Because the full force of what happened hit me. I don’t know how or when or why. Maybe it was all my fault. But today I am tired of wondering what I did wrong.

You, of all people knew me. You knew from the very beginning of my abandonment issues. You knew I fall for a repentant apology. You knew of my inner demons, some of which you fought with me; some you fought for me. You taught me not to trust someone- and that someone shattered me later. And you foresaw it and warned me and I did not listen.

It was you who saw me for who I really was. It was you whom I’d run to with a problem. It was you with whom I’d go crazy with at night. It was you. It always was you. My first instances of stalking I shared with you. My first heartbreak I shared with you. You knew about my first love long before I knew myself.

Then how could you? How could you leave me? I know I was being particularly difficult that Semester. I know I had stopped caring about everything for a while. I know that, and you knew what was wrong. You knew the pressure I was exerting on myself. You knew my emotions were in a wreck. You knew I was trying so hard I was falling sick. You saw me crumbling before your own eyes.

I know you were in a mess too. I tried to help you out of it. I sat with you and let you vent it out on me. I let you hate your life while I was breaking down in a corner.

I know the course we took was natural to some. But we had plans you know? Plans of falling in love, getting married, being there at childbirth and godparenting. We’d decided we’d call each other those stupid nicknames till we’d die. And now look at us. We avoid each other like we didn’t know the other. We pass by like strangers. We live life in our own empty shells.

Sometimes I wonder how it would be like to have you in my life. And it pains me immensely to say I can’t. I can’t see us still being friends. I can’t see us together. And it is a horrible, horrible feeling.

So this one is to you: I hope you’re happy. I hope my memories don’t haunt you as much as yours haunt me. I hope you have a constant in your life in your new best friend who’s notoriously famous for being a bitch. Today, though, I let you go.

But, trust me, if tomorrow you’d be back with a broken heart, I’d still want to hold you and heal you.

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About TheBlackWallflower

I'm just your average unique person. I love to read and write (no surprises there, eh?) and think a lot. I adore Rowling and think Harry Potter should be a religion. I also hate pink. I love fluff generally because it makes me feel intelligent and I love poetry because it makes me feel different. (yes, references.) I'm married to Sirius Black. So I sign myself as The Bitch alarmingly often. Oh, and I love Mr. Darcy. And Jo Longo. And Chandler Bing. And Sherlock. (Yes, I'm a fantard.) And in case you want to drop in a good, or a critical word, feel free to email me: theblackwallflower@gmail.com OR, follow me on Twitter: @WallflowerBlack Enough with the babble. OkBye. View all posts by TheBlackWallflower

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