Never did I think I would sit here and write my goodbye to you. Letting go and leaving had never been my strong suit as I am used to being left. They say goodbyes are bittersweet, but I can’t seem to taste the sweetness of my sorrow. I leave you to end my miserableness, although I can’t help but think of your own. It pains me to know that I have caused you struggle, or will have, once you read this. By the time you get this I will have left.

You grabbed my hand, you asked me why, And I didn’t speak. When asked if I would answer I stuttered. You wanted an answer. You wanted me to speak, And It wasn’t a question of why, but when. A question of how I would react When you were gone. I didn’t know. You asked me why I couldn’t tell you, Why my nonchalance and indifference plagued our conversations: Because I will not break your heart. So the real question, it seemed, would always remain: cannot, or will not?