His silence is consuming me.

Am I supposed to read between the lines?

I don't understand what they say.

Should I stay?

Does he want me to leave?

Do I fight?

Or should I wave the flag and just go?

Do I jump over the mines?

Or should I surrender?

She is growing, but not the way you might think.

The face in the mirror looks different.

Peaceful.

Her smile is no longer forced, it has become a natural part of her.

Her laugh echoes with pure joy.

Spreading.

Her voice is calm and humble.

Soothing to others.

Her steps are light, like she's dancing down the streets.

Freedom.

She's standing tall, yet relaxed.

Protective.

Her whole body radiates safety and love.

Caring.

This is her growing.

I don't even see you anymore, I mean I do, but I don't.

I only have eyes for him now.

Your brown eyes have lost their power to me.

They no longer make my legs weak, they make them heavier.

I saw you last night, and I froze with fear.

But I have him, he is my safe place.

When he holds my hand while walking down the street I feel indestructable.

I glaze over my shoulder, and I see that you don't even fit in his shadow.

I feel your gaze burning.

And I can't stop smiling towards the sun.

He sleeps so peacefully.

With my head on his chest I listen  to his heart beat.

My fingers running through his soft hair.

He seems so innocent and vulnerable.

I get so overwhelmed by emotions I can barely breathe.

This is what falling hard feels like.

We were in our own world yet surrounded by others laughing and talking at the pub.

But they weren't there. We could only see each other.

His deadly combination of green eyes and a playful smile started something in me.

Laughing in each others arms led to that first kiss we both had been longing for.

It was magic and chemistry, it was butterflies and freedom.

Even now, a hundred kisses later it isn't enough.

It'll never be enough.

It feels like I've found the missing piece in my life.

Like the one I've been searching for is found.

In his shirt that smells like him I watch the sky.

I daydream about how this love story will play out.

Knowing that he's falling too, I'm sure it will be beautiful.

The journey to freedom has been so long.

I thank the figher in me for digging me out of the hole that tried to swollow me.

To be honest I thought I'd be dead by summer.

But here I am.

Standing tall, still covered in mud.

Letting go of my love is horrifying.

The pain is so deeply rooted.

But it's time to break free.

I choose to jump of that cliff of sorrow, not knowing what's down there.

I think I'm finally letting you go.

Letting go of the inner conflict.

Knowing that a simple "Hey" will cause a fight.

You're here, but I have to shut you out.

To save myself.

To leave room for a new love.

I've told myself that it's you, but it'll never be.

I'm starting to accept that you're just a memory now.

What we had is gone.

No matter how I try to fight for you, it doesn't matter.

You no longer exist.

I'm holding on and letting go.