“A writer can only really write when she is sad.” This was only just a saying, until it wasn’t.

As I process the things that happened between us, the emotions I’ve felt, words managed to flow right out of me like it was all premeditated.

I am sad, not because this heartbreak caused permanent separation between us. But because it did not. Not at first.

Was I not enough for you to love? Am I too big? Am I too loud? Am I unworthy?

The pain of not having you makes me want to end any form of connection between us. And believe me when I tell you that this is my lowest. For even during the war that was going on within me, I fought for you– for any version of an us. Because you are my friend first. But I really am sorry if I choose to fight for just myself this time. Because that’s the only cross I find myself able to carry.

But when I find myself still thinking about you- still feeling love for you, I find myself at the start of that never ending cycle again. I hope of an us in a different life, where I love you and you love me back. Where I can love you freely and without inhibition. I dream of that happiness only to be shoved back to the reality that there is no us.

So, forgive me if I am sad. Because it is only from these words I feel comforted. It is only from these words I find relief. From the pain that is unwantedly attached to your name.