13th June 2015

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          It took me what felt like forever to realise that I could live without him as much as I didn't want to. Perhaps I may be romanticizing the fact that I've lost the reason I bother to wake up every morning.

          Every thing and any thing could draw back to him, the one who made life such a surreal ecstasy for that temporary duration we promised would last forever - till the day he decided it couldn't, because he couldn't.

          A love so tragic, built on momentary promises, cascading dreams and so, so much hope. How could I have let my fragile heart into such a fragile relationship built on all these fragile principles? Now all these untempered things are broken, and so am I.

          I am healing only with the support of my friends and I am grateful. I can't tell if I'm healing or if 'happy' is what I've been telling myself to feel as an obligation. I really just want to forget and let go of this entire memory, the tiniest fragments of it haunts me to the very core. The reason that used to put a smile on my face before bed is now the reason I cry myself to sleep.

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