❝ The Art of Letting Go ❞

The Art of Letting Go

All my life, I’ve been afraid of letting go. I’ve been afraid of what might happen if I did, and because of that I didn’t think about what might happen if I didn’t let go. I held on so tight, until the coarse rope of unrequited love cut into my hands. Now I’m left with scars, because I did not know how to let go.

I tried for years, but the problem is, I love too hard and I love too deep. They told me that it was okay to have a loving heart. No. It left me walls, so this beautiful heart of mine is hidden away from the people who actually deserve to see it. Yet somehow, I’m so open and caring for the ones that do not deserve it. Don’t get me wrong, the walls are beautiful; a nice red brick surrounds me and they make me feel safe. However, I’m so closed off and I don’t want to be anymore, but I can’t help it. These four walls keep me company.

“It’s not you, it’s me,” he told me, his words insincere and his face even more heartless than his actions. He created these beautiful flowers in my lungs and my god, they were absolutely beautiful but there was no way I could breathe with them there. He allowed me to open the cages that I hold my heart so comfortable in, and then it ran away when he did. When he spoke to me with his words of feigned love, my heart believed every word even though my brain questioned the reliability of them. Someone once told me to follow my heart, and that’s where it got me. My heart is lost, somewhere in the wilderness, in a field of broken promises and love that was all in vain.

“But I love you,” I told him, with a river of tears flowing steadily down my cheeks.

“I loved the idea of you,” he said as he wiped the tears from my face. That is what this love always was, a contradiction. It was a false sense of happiness and hope when I looked into his blue eyes. I regretted ever getting lost in the sea that was his eyes.

I remember when he held my hand as we looked off into the sunset, and we talked about our future plans. I remember looking into his eyes and thinking there could actually be something for us. That is exactly what he wanted though, it was all part of his master plan. He got some sort of joy out of creating something beautiful and then destroying it. He created this fire, and then claimed it burned him, but it didn’t. He was just scared. He was scared that maybe he actually could be happy, and that is such a tragedy isn’t it? So instead of actually trying to be happy, he decides to destroy the happiness that everyone else has. What a shame I had to be a victim of such a masquerade. Now I’m here, with a million pieces of a broken heart. He is gone and now I’m left wondering how he could create all of this, just to destroy it.

“And I loved the you that you pretended to be,” I whispered even though he claimed he was always true to himself. That in itself was a lie. I saw the happy him, and I saw the angry, lonely boy that he truly was underneath. Maybe I’m just ignorant and naive for not seeing it before I got myself in too deep.

“I told you to run, sweetheart. I told you I was only going to break your heart,” he said, with that ever-present cocky smile on his face that was all too troubling. Though he was right, but I thought I could change him. People always think they can change each other but the truth is, only they can change themselves. This generation is broken. This millennial is a mess. We intentionally try to hurt each other, for no good reason.

He is a monster, in an angel’s disguise. Lucky him, the sun just hit him right and that’s how he got his pretty, golden halo. The thing is, I don’t want to be scared anymore, and I don’t want to be sad anymore. That won’t get me anywhere, and I don’t want him to have the satisfaction of knowing that he affected me like this.

So I stood up, and I broke down those beautiful brick walls and stepped out, a brand new me. I shed the skin that he had tainted with his touch, I let the sun burn away the evidence of his touch on my skin. I’m a brand new me, and I’m happy. All this time, I was afraid to move on, but loving him was my first mistake, and staying was my second.

As I took a breath in, and let it go, I let him go. I walk this empty street alone, but I’d much rather be alone with myself, than with someone who could only fake it. Of course, when you’re actually doing good, they come back to you. They want to take those good, pure pieces of you, and then they want to darken it. Don’t let them take your light – I won’t let him take my light.

He’s got a certain way with his words, and so I decided I needed to get away from him. I should have never gotten lost at sea because, I can’t swim in these waters. I would believe everything he said, because his smile made me believe him. That was just a mask, to hide the evil that he was inside. As he takes the smiles of all the girls he screws over, his smile grows bigger. He truly is a sinister creature. 

Every time he bought me roses, they were all fake. He said, “they won’t die, just like our love,” and he’d smile… and I’d believe him. Plastic roses may never die, but you sure as hell can cut them. With each cut to these stems, I cut ties. These ties no longer bind me to him; these plastic roses, to me, they are dead. Just like this love.