Monday 13 February 2017

The End of a Familiar Life, the Beginning of a Happy Ending

Letting go of what was, there is no need for I treasure the times and look upon them fondly. Letting go of you as a person, a lover, somebody I could call mine-- this will be the toughest ordeal. I accept that we have returned to nothing the moment the warmth of your lips grew cold on my forehead. But I still cannot accept that it is you whom I have lost.

There is no bitterness. There is little pain, although it hurts. I want not the romantic love we once had, only honest reconcilation and loyal camaraderie: you, as a friend, who would still understand the dull humour of mine.

Of course, to you, letting go of your first love means that we can no longer talk. At least not for the time being. I dare not ask how you fare, and I dare not confront you because in a way, you are hurting more than I am. One day, when you're ready, I will ask you. And I hope that we can laugh about it over tea at the dinner table, on chairs with wheels.

Maybe you're not hurting as well. Spending your time happier than I am even. Then I wonder, why haven't you contacted me? I'd like to think that you're on the beautiful path of self-discovery admist a flowering field, dusting off the remains of your fall.

When we first met, you would talk to me everyday. You did not love me then but you talked to me everyday nonetheless. Can we have those days back again? Maybe it's too much to ask for. Sacrificing such a friendship because one cannot see past the pain inflected by inexperienced romance.

Now, I think I am ready to let you go when I see you blossom, basking in the light of early summer with your wide smile as the wind ride alongside you. My wishes then shall rise up to the sky as the woods bellow cries of enlightened heartache and cast their blessing of leaves over you.

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