It's a crazy thing
love, fear, instinct, self preservation, human interaction.
I loved you for so long
and the thought of losing you killed me.
I thought, surely,
if you were gone
I wouldn't be able to survive
if you were taken away from me, that is.
But when I chose to leave,
everything becomes okay, for me at least.
you were still gone
but it was my choice
and you don't affect me anymore.
Isn't it so strange
how the simple choice
of you being taken or me letting go
is the difference between acceptance
and depression.