He has such a hard time letting go.
He can't let go of the past. He can't let go of his problems. He can't let go of things that are already gone.
But he's very good at letting go of me.
So I'm taking a page out of his book and I'm letting go too.
I'm letting go of his sweet, empty words. I'm letting go of the memories of us that turn my stomach in equal parts of revulsion and regret. I'm letting go of the hope that he might become the man I hoped him to be.
He's so good at holding on.
He holds on to people, but not to me. He holds on to moments, but not ours. He holds on to feelings, but not mine.
So I'm taking a page out of his book and I'm holding on too.
I'm holding on to things that take my mind off of him. I'm holding on to things that make me happy, but not him. I'm holding on to myself because some one has to.
He's got hands that seem to hold so much, and yet he lets me slip away despite the way he says he feels.
I've spent my whole life trying to hold on to things that are being dragged away from me. I've got scars on my heart and my soul and my hands from holding on too tightly to things I wasn't meant to have. I guess he's just one more thing I have to learn to let go of.
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