About

The photo is from Pinterest; I will delete it if it becomes an issue. 'Let's break up.' It was exactly our third anniversary. He and I didn't love each other. Yet, for some reason, we couldn't let go. But it was an undeniable fact that we were exhausted. His response was exactly as I expected. 'If that's what you want.' Honestly, I wanted him to hold onto me, but he was cold. In the end, we couldn't break up. It wasn't so much love... as it was the feeling that I would crumble if I let you go. As if that day never happened, no one mentioned it again. We asked how each other was doing when we woke up in the morning, and shared brief words about how our days went when night fell. Nothing particularly changed. He was still by my side, and I still held his hand, but I didn't think about the reason why I had to hold it. To the point where it didn't feel strange that the number of things I didn't have to think about had increased. He didn't leave that day. And I wasn't relieved or grateful for the fact that he stayed. The sensation of not being discarded was closer to a confirmation than a comfort. We got along well. At least there was nothing worth calling a problem. I realized for the first time then that problems only remain problems when they can be solved, and things that are already over are simply maintained in silence. That something doesn't end, I had a brief passing thought that it might mean something different from being alive. I will not abandon him, and he will not abandon me. That is how we have come this far.