If I don't make it, know that I loved you all along.

You could compare letting go of someone to ripping out the hooks that have attached themselves to your soul, each hook being something about you that I’d loved. One by one you have to rip out the hooks or forever be held back by them. I think that’s how it is. Maybe I let you become too much a part of me and be connected to you in a way that I shouldn’t have, but I can’t decide if it was worth it. Is the unbearable bleeding I feel worth the tiny bit of joy that I had? Its so hard to handle, and the fact that its self-inflicted in the way that I’m making myself do this is making it all the worse.

My writing has gone to shit, I can’t do it anymore.