It started with a sunset so ethereal, so beautiful that it ached my heart.
It carries on as a diary journalling the fragility of happiness and life.
Monday, June 16, 2014
I am still in love with you
It's fucking hard letting you go. It's as hard as accepting that control is an illusion, that fate somehow did not work on us. It hurts. It hurts everyday. I told you I deliberately chose to stay with you every morning of the past 1,096 days. I can't help but wonder: Can I one day tell myself to let you go?