Bittersweet

Endings are bittersweet. 

Like a sad story, like the possibilities of what could have been. Endless recriminations - with each party asking the same questions that had been asked a million times before. 

You asked me why I let you go. I asked myself why I didn't do it earlier. 

It was difficult to find the strength to leave, knowing that you had sacrificed so much of yourself for me, knowing how effortlessly you made my family and friends love you, but we were always so often like two ships cruising in the same sea on different currents, always in each others' sight but never quite meeting. 

I once saw myself in your eyes, and I was afraid of your unwavering desire - but I was secure. I grew comfortable in that confidence. But like everything else, that confidence faded, shattered in those meaningless words you said, and slowly those feelings too faded. 

Like everything else. 

You could have let me leave, but you didn't - and you left me in a way that made me lose my self respect for myself and for the remnants of our relationship. 

I cherish those memories, despite your adamance that I did not. I could cradle them in my hands, remember those moments when you were gentle and sweet and kind, and let them keep me warm in moments when I needed them the most. I could smile at our pictures together and remember the days when I once loved you, and file them in that special place in my heart. 

You were so different. 

And it's time to let go.