when the anxiety of being around someone becomes so strong that your stutter blocks your words like it did when you were 7, its time to let go.
when a texting screen makes you run to the bathroom and spit out bile because every word that you want to type is wrong somehow; its time to let go.
when you realise that being with her has become a reason to welcome the hunger that's killing you (and when you have convinced yourself that that's the version of you she wants, despite having no evidence to back it up); its time to let go.
when the notes page on your phone has more drafted breakup messages than it does shopping lists; its time to let go.
when you've lost your poetry because every line inside of you has frozen in fear of no longer being a lyric of love; its time to let go.
when every thought of letting go is fuelled by external anxieties, its not the right time, it must be done in person, it will hurt her and that will be your fault, deal with the pain. deal with the fear. putting yourself first makes you abusive. makes you no better than the ones that hurt you; I'm sorry, but its time to let go.
it will hurt. it will teach you every intricacy of torture. you will know how it feels to be stabbed in the sternum and there will be no culprit to blame. but its time to let go.
send the message. its time.