Why am I like this?
I was supposed to find happiness with you. We did build the sky with our own hands, together. Then why do I feel like I can’t just fly through it?

I am afraid that I don’t love you as much as I should. Maybe it’s because I can live without you? At this point I’m not even sure anymore.

Should my joy depend on your presence? People whisper that it isn’t love if I am fine without you.

...But I am.

And I know my heart doesn’t break if you’re gone.
And I know my loneliness tastes unbelievably sweet.
And I know who I am and how I feel, and I know I don’t need you to fix me, nor complete.

I am so sorry if I don’t love you as much as I should. May the pieces fall into place.