Letting you go is letting a piece of me go; death. You were my everything without truly existing. I have habituated myself as your habits become my own, displaying a lot of your traits, from the way you talk to character strength. They are traits of our own, not ours, not one.
And for a long time I have hidden behind your wing, and now that we’re no longer I’ve been scooped to the forefront. I must fend for myself and show myself to be…. I am a byproduct of you, but now mending me. I can no longer run to you, you are not my home. I have to establish myself and become a home of my own.
I’m not scared. Yet I’m not motivated. I just keep thinking you’re not here by me. Its a lonely road I’m on because letting go of you means half of me is gone.
When they talk about Honeymoon and Love…. I see this is what it means. You may not have been my thoughts, but you remain a deep passion within.
And the more we talk and reality is exposed, I shatter inside, invisibly grabbing and trying to hold on. What I notice is my lack of control in this departure…. That’s the difference between my choice and allowing you to leave. My letting go and no longer receiving.