Dear... E
It hurts that we went on our strange holidays without saying a word. It hurts we became formal. It hurts that you avoided me and let me think I was like anyone else. And then looked at me from afar. You showed me my place and told me, sorry this is all. I wasn’t enough for you.
Not on a quarantine, I’m shaking that in a month last, stray won’t be there. That your decision would be hard. You choose to stay with others and stand up and leave the room that I’m in.
Maybe this prayer’s whole time is worth it to let you go.
I love you.