Part 4, Letting You Go

It was that sad rainy afternoon a day after Valentine's day, when I first saw you.

Anyway, between you and me, I consider you a huge ball of wonder and magic, from your half grin to those hooded eyes refusing to hold more than few seconds for I have observed you more closer than I have any sunset. And I have seen many sunsets.

It was the eyes, now that I look back. They held more truth than your words spoken with kind rejection, for your eyes never lied.

If I could be any less obsessed I would but it's harder to forget your scent when your ghost stands in front of me, tempting just a little for what could have been infinite, if only you were a ghost that I did not obsess.

It would have hurt less, had it been another person but it was those dreams taken with closed eyes - which stole you before I could.

You guarded those dreams for you knew people were disappointing and dreams were promising. I hope I did not disappoint you for I tried so hard to please.

I even begged and wished the words to penetrate deep enough for you to see me, no not the one who is laughing, trying to be social and babbling about the trips yet to be taken, I am talking about the person whose head turns in your direction, seeking your gaze yet ignores the mere existence of you.

The one who feels her anxiety rise as you pass by, for what would I reply if you asked How are you for I know that the truth will spill out like beans out of the bag, slowly but all at once that - I can't quite think about anything but you.

But, six months and one broken heart was the collateral damage that taught me some people were like wars. I was no warrior and my heart no battlefield yet I had drained my energy on you.

I could not fight, for my already bruised heart would not be able to survive the declaration of your rejection flashing in dangerous red on the white flag of my feelings for I had surrendered them a long time ago.

Now sober, I wonder though, lying

and gazing at the stars, will letting you go be my apocalypse?

If so, let this apocalypse be held a guilty witness that even the best things come to an end.

So here I am writing this in the hopes that I will let you go - for final, no texts, no faint memory or the what if's because even though letting you go could be my apocalypse but letting you stay would mean stealing you away from your dreams and I am no thief.

So, I let you go with the hope that one day you will be my Valentine on that same sad rainy afternoon, the day when I first saw you.

AUTHOR'S NOTE - hey guys this is my submission for the contest, I hope you love it. Do share your thoughts in the comments!

Spread Love, Cherry