People talk about how breakups between a girl and a boy who are pretending to be so in love are the worst thing to happen in the world. How the end of a relationship that is not-so-platonic is the biggest crises in one's life and maybe it is. Maybe it is the end of the world for them but have you ever thought about platonic breakups?
The breakups you suffer gradually and slowly when you move out of high school and when your group of friends does not quite remains the same?
Have you ever thought about them?
Or experienced them?
Maybe I have.
And believe me these are the worst kind.
Because they don't happen abruptly or give you a slight notion or a dialog about how it's not working between us or how it doesn't feels right. They don't give you a phone call and ask you to meet them at a café ready to drop the bomb on you.
No.
They are slow and agonizing and helpless and every nightmare you ever had.
And you can do nothing except watch someone else take your place. You just stand at a distance and see yourself crumbling, falling apart. And it's not the pieces of your so-in-love heart. They are the pieces of you. You lose yourself.
Those are the pieces that you lose bit by bit.
Little by little.
And that's it. That's the kind of a breakup I dread the most.
The kind the world doesn't talks about.
The kind that kills you like no other.
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All the Love.
