Broken strings & Pretty things

The world, seen through a young girl's eyes.

End.

Days pass.

Blur.

Weeks roll by.

Fade.

Months go by.

Gone.

And I don’t know whether it’s worse knowing that it’s my choice letting you go, or that you’d leave if I didn’t. Because one of the most gut wrenching parts is knowing that you belong in the brighter days when the sunshine hit your hazel eyes; because loving someone beyond limits can also mean letting go to the people who were always there.

Because this time we can’t talk about it and pretend that me loving someone else isn’t painful, or destructive or insignificant. Coffee can’t fix broken hearts and it sure as hell can’t fix us. We can’t continue this play when the curtain has already fallen. We’ve both made our exits.

Because cursing my name and calling and creating memories aren’t the things that made you the person I saw you as. You were sunshine and happiness and safety. These days, I don’t even know your name. We’re merely strangers held together by some recollection of a former joy. But memories are memories and sometimes good things have to come to an end. No matter how much I wish they didn’t.

I treasured you. And I really wanted this to work. I wanted to be able to look at you without pain, or disappointment or bewilderment. I wish that you could be happy. I wish it didn’t have to end like this.

I wish you didn’t make me want to hate myself for falling in love.

So walk away and take that train. Walk away from me and everything our friendship once posed. Walk away because I think that if one of us doesn’t, there is no chance we can ever come back.

So take that final bow. It’s closing time.

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