it is often said that writing is a means to an end. each word bringing the writer a little closer to solving his proclaimed enigma. every word churned out of hurt will pave the way to a realized ending. but the truth is, sometimes, in an effort to heal, we need to open our doors to the unresolved truths in hope that every question will eventually answer itself.
I don’t know that I will ever completely detach myself from the hold you seem to have on me. you will always be a piece that remains unsolved. though I try to stop myself from visioning the idea of us in the future, I struggle to separate reality for delusion. you were not just a void to be filled. without you I am incomplete. I feel broken. you were the remaining half that made me feel whole.
there is always that one person that whatever you do you can never forget
and for me… that was you