I knew I had to let go.
I knew…
the way you know fire burns
but still hold your hand close
because the warmth feels like home.
I knew I had to detach,
to step back,
to allow my chest to breathe again
because loving you
was slowly teaching my lungs how to suffocate.
What we had was getting too strong,
too deep for something that was never mine.
You were never mine.
You belonged to someone else.
You loved your girlfriend.
You loved her loudly,
confidently,
without confusion.
And still…
I stayed.
I stayed hoping one day
you would wake up and choose me.
That one day you would change my name in your phone
from “bestie”
to “the one I love.”
I stayed hoping love could be convinced,
that patience could rewrite loyalty.
I was yearning.
Waiting.
Settling.
I was in a situationship
where I knew, very well,
I was just a third wheel
pretending to be a destination.
But the bond…
the bond was rare.
I had never felt anything like it.
It came with peace,
the kind that feels suspicious
because it grows in the wrong place
but still feels right.
And that made leaving harder.
I wanted to let go.
I wanted distance.
But I didn’t know how.
I still don’t.
Because detaching is not as simple
as the word makes it sound.
It’s not just walking away,
it’s tearing yourself out
of memories you built too fast,
too deep,
too recklessly.
We made too many memories.
More than we should have.
More than was healthy.
And now here I am,
in love with my best friend.
The one I call brother.
The one who calls me sister.
Yet sometimes we act like the labels lie.
We get jealous.
We get overprotective
for reasons we can’t explain.
We talk for hours,
about nothing important,
yet somehow it feels like everything.
We go out on random dates
and call them “hangouts.”
We cross lines
and pretend they were never there.
Best friends don’t do this…
but we do.
And I wish I knew how to stop.
I wish I knew where the boundary is
after you’ve erased it so many times
it no longer exists.
I wish love came with warning signs
that screamed loud enough
before your heart got involved.
Because now I’m stuck
between what feels good
and what is right.
Between holding on
and finally choosing myself.
And the truth is,
letting go hurts.
But staying…
might cost me more than I can afford.
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Growth is an extreme powerful personal choice
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