letting go, growing up
Love is so overrated.

I learned a lot from this mess - the potency of feeling too much; the bitter taste of failed expectations; the sheer relief in admitting things I kept denying to myself, so much like the comfort of finally coming home.

But I think the most important lesson of all is this: I realized how resilient a person I really am.

I don't regret any of it, not for a second, but I am so glad because I think I can finally go on with my life.

I am writing this because I want to mark this emotion - to leave an evidence that it ever was before I start anew, a reminder that once it did mean something, at least to me. Because I really am putting a close to this chapter. The last time I'll write about it, because God knows I've wasted too much time and ink and tears than is healthy.

To the lone person who had the misfortune of hearing the entirety of the sordid story, you made letting go so much easier to do.

And to you: thank you for everything. I mean that.

Good bye.