I woke up around 6AM but I did not bother sending a reply to your last text message. I know your phone is turned off and you are on your way to a new place, a new adventure. It was  bittersweet for me. I want you to go so you may learn to live yet I don’t want you to go. Usual things happened that day. I went to the office and bought my lunch at Belle’s. In fact, I went home early. But I wished I did not. I was not expecting the pang of you leaving would hit me hard at night. Despite the misunderstandings, I looked for you. Six long weeks of silence passed and nothing can replace your physical presence. I missed you already. I know you are letting me go. I know you have someone else. And I know I allowed you to go.

Yet here I am, stuck.


I was reading “Why We Broke-up” by Daniel Handler and decided to write something about break-ups.

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