dis·en·thrall
/ˌdisənˈTHrôl/
verb LITERARY
set free.
-
Letter to you
You once told me, 'love isn't the word that defines us'. You said it was more than that because the word Love itself wasn't strong enough to hold our meaning. Now that your gone I have no meaning, and the book sitting on the shelf in my living room no longer has worth to me. You've created a hole in my heart, and if that wasn't enough, the deeper you dug, it filled up with your presence making it impossible to forget. Seeing as your living on, enjoying the life you have, I have no reason to not enjoy my own. But the thing is, everything that made my life worth living are the things I remember you by. So every time I pick up a book or take a morning stroll to the cafe on the corner street, walking into the bookstore, even just lying in bed staring at the ceiling above me, I'm reminded of us. Of you. And since we've broke apart I haven't been the same, I find no joy in sunlight, from the mornings we had breakfast, the words that hold deep meaning between the two of us, the ones we shared to each other late at night. And although you've caused all of these burdens, I can't help but Love you, Ethan Dolan.
Yours Truly, Y/N
