Day One

"Between what is said and not meant, and what is meant but not said, most of love is lost." - Khalil Gibran

I love her.

I don't know if she loved me.

All I knew was that I was happy with her.

This was the first day without her. I couldn't hold on anymore. I cried when I woke up, I cried when I  drove to school. I cried in the library, in the hallway, in the drive home, as I wrote this. But between the tears and between the aching heart, lay a comforting idea. The idea that she will be happy. She will be happy. She will be happy. I repeat to myself. I mutter it in between sobs, between the tears. I cried not because she's gone, I cry because I couldn't hold on. I couldn't hold on because I was weak. 

I hope that my leaving will bring her a better life for the both of us, I hope that she finds what she's looking for, lest she comes back. I hope that I find what I'm looking for, lest I come back. I'm tired. I'm tired. I'm tired.

They say that in love you have to make sacrifices, and I made the ultimate sacrifice: letting go.