So I look across the mane...

He took you at your word, when you promised you'd take all of him, his every part. He believed when you said you've never felt like this about anyone, that you've never felt closer or more attune to someone. He trusted that you felt as profoundly as you claimed. He had not a single doubt about you, it was himself he was wrong about. Was what he felt love or something else? Lust or simply an obsession? A way of dealing with his past? A way to move forward? A way to grow? Perhaps even his selfish way of building his self-worth? Of experiencing things just to make sure he doesn't want them. Of experiencing life, just so he is certain it doesn't pass him by.

This is goodbye, my darling, this is thank you. Thank you for coming into my life and giving me joy and happiness and thus leaving imprints that will sustain me for a lifetime. Thank you for showing me that love can exist - even in the most wrenching of circumstances. That it doesn't need reason or logic, but simply a strong belief of two hearts. Thank you for loving me, and showing me what it means to give love in return. But most of all, thank you for hurting me and leaving me behind. You showed me that despite everything, love can be such an easy thing to take for granted, such a simple thing to forget. Thank you for pushing me to become better, so that one day, when I'll least expect it, I'll be ready for a new kind of love. Perhaps everything ours couldn't be. Thank you for being the best thing that has ever happened to me, and for teaching me that in vein of forever, even a glimpse of happiness can be all I'll ever really need.