Wherever you are right now,
I just want you to know that
I've never given up on
us.
We'll never be meant for each other,
and that I understand.
I never expected you to love me
back the way I did, but I just want you
to know that I care.
I still do,
and I forever will.
Two years have gone by,
and just as time depletes,
so does my trust in you.
So do the reasons to love you.
But I love you the same.
I want you to know that you are why
I stay up at night until three in the morning,
why I stay alive, and why I never
want to wake up from my dreams.
With God as my witness, I never always liked you, but my love perpetually
remained the same.
I want to let go.
I want to be strong enough
to see myself free from these shackles,
so may this be my way of
surrender.
Let this signify that the gravity pulling me down to my world,
that is you,
no longer exists.
You no longer act as my
world.
No longer are you the
reason for my lack of sleep.
No longer are you my
drug.
No longer are you my
dream.
But I still
love you
the same.
I will always
be here for you,
but not in the way
I would've wanted it.
I miss it,
but that's what love is:
letting go.
So I will let go.
I let go.
I love you.
An open letter for [her].