one belongs to me.
the other, to Ryan.
there is a fresh life out there in the world, waiting for me... or so i'm told. its hard, though, to give up on this one. to let go of the love, of the distress, of the fairytale first half and the tragically flawed second. how hard we tried. how hard we try...
it isn't to say that the waters between Ryan and i are irrevocably muddied, but more, that we're both hoping that with the (slow, painful, arduous, seemingly impossible) process of mending our broken hearts, calmness, not calamity, will aide us in our paths.
i want, so dearly, to talk with, to sit with, to be near, to see Ryan. but, to be as unlike that thorn that grew so cooly, so invasively, so wickedly from the rosebush that was our life, i am dedicated to respecting his privacy, respecting his state, respecting his (situational) wishes.
the healing of a broken heart, of a broken spirit, undoubtedly takes time, effort and a gross overdose of positively purposeful living. i know he and i will one day be true and dear friends. but until then, we must maintain our singular selves and all that is linked therein, so that when we do come to that sunny place in our future, we'll both be better, to each other and most importantly, to ourselves.