This is me accepting that this is the end of our story.
I can’t tell when exactly I realized this. It could be during the moments when I was down and you were nowhere to be found to cheer me up and alleviate my anxiety. It could be during the lonely and endless nights when I couldn’t fall asleep and you and your blatant lies were the cause of it. It could be the hundred times you broke my trust and played with my feelings.
It could be the hundred times I felt in the depths of my being that you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.
You know, sometimes I wonder whether it would have been better if our paths had never crossed. Perhaps my pure little world that I built would have remained whole and intact. Perhaps my heart that I so selflessly gave to you would have never been broken.
Yes, there are so many maybes. There are so many questions that I don’t know the answer to.
But, what I know for sure is that I have to let go of you.
So, this is me accepting that this is the end of our story.
This is me accepting that I should have let go of you earlier. I should have let go of you every time my family and friends asked me about you and I struggled to summon up the strength to keep myself from bursting into tears.
I should have let go of you every time you tried to feed my hopes with your empty promises, grandiose stories, and “white” lies, as you preferred to call them. I should have let go of you every time I went to bed and woke up alone in a cold bed. I should have let go of you every time you took advantage of my kindness and took me for granted.
I should have let go of you every time you broke my heart and wrecked my hopes.
So, this is me accepting that I have to move on without you.
This is me accepting that every restaurant we went to and every park we went for a walk in may never feel the same again.
This is me accepting that we were never meant to be together.
This is me accepting that every new day will bring new dreams, new wishes, new plans, and new hope, but it’ll never bring you again.
This is me accepting that our story will never have a happy ending.
This is me accepting that I’ll write many new chapters, but they’ll never include your name.
This is me accepting that I am better off without you.