two years and one more day

what we had for two years was not love. love does not require one person to keep surviving the other.

you wanted me when things were easy, when i was soft, happy, available, and convenient. but the moment things became difficult, you left me to carry everything alone, almost like suffering was my punishment for refusing to give you exactly what you wanted.

and somewhere along the way, i became so used to being hurt by you that if you treated me well, i would probably be surprised. when you treat me badly, i barely react anymore because you trained me to expect it.

i still wish you peace. i still pray that life gives you strength, that you find whatever it is you are looking for, and that one day you become capable of receiving the love people give you without destroying it.

i genuinely hope you do. but i will not be there to see it.

i have already given you two years of my life. i am not giving you two years and one more day.

i am letting you go.