What would you do if you had to choose?

I'll let you go. If you stay.

Life is a big fat gigantic stinking mess, that's the beauty of it, too.

A thousand suns rise from my chest.

I get it now. I have to make good on my promise. To let her go. To really let her go. To let us both go.

Except even at the start, when we were in that can't-get-enough-of-you-phase, there was like some invisible wall between us. At first I tried to take it down, but it took so much effort to even make cracks. And then I got tired of trying. Then I justified it. This was just how adult relationships were, how love felt once you had a few battle scars.

Sleep would be so welcome. A warm blanket of black to erase everything else. Sleep without dreams.