Our relationship ended not with an explosion but with the expiration of the flicker of a steadily standing candle. Slowly, the wax melted and the string burned until there were no salvageable remnants of the beautiful creation that once stood.
It was one of those candles where you could no longer light the wick but you still had an attachment to it that drew you to it in a way in which weren’t quite ready to part ways.
We had a good run, nay, we had a great one. But as with all marathons, this one too must end.
Our lives no longer fit together I’m afraid. You built me up so high that I eventually outgrew us, and you did the same, but in the opposite direction. Our relationship was a perfect foundation for the rest of our lives, but the collective “we” is merely the cement that gets built upon: forever holding the skeleton together but never seen again.
I’m afraid our story ends here, my friend.
I love you and I will always see a part of you in myself, but i have to release you to the world. We were built for great things, and we will get to do those great things because of the influence we had upon one another, but I’m afraid it’s not my arms that will welcome you across the finish line, nor will your arms welcome me. And you know what? Maybe that’s okay.