A painful experience that makes one question. Holding out hope is suppose to be a sign of strength, that despite all the odds you are persevering. When you want to let go of the hope you held, you know they’re in deep. Deeper then you could have ever expected.
You met him on vacation. It was in your first conversation that you knew he was special. It was in one week that you knew he would change you, and that you would hate yourself for getting so close to someone you would likely never see again. And it is in the moments, months later, before you finally decide to let him go that you will know how you’ll be missed. You will hear it in his rebuttal. You will feel it in his fight.
“What am I to you?”
The question threatens to leap off your tongue, but you’re certain you already know and you’d rather not hear it spoken aloud, see it spelled out, especially from him. You’ve been nothing more than his friend for months. You assured him that you knew this, while you quietly clung to the hope that you held a little more weight in…
View original post 445 more words