That it's all for the best, you decided this

I am devastated, but we have plans for this. I have been shattered, and though each separate blow shatters me in new pieces like agonized snowflake crystals, I have felt this. I have to. I have to. I have to. I love you, but I have to. I let you in, I let you touch my heart and get caught up in those rough strings, so badly worn with abuse. I took you thousands of miles, close to my heart. I lived your life and you lived mine. I let you breathe me. In a life I approach with a cold armor, you were always beneath it, making my heart beat. In all the thousands of people I met and scoffed at and couldn't take seriously, I saw you. I alway saw you. And this is the weakness that's called love. I loved you. I love you. I feel each separation so acutely, each nerve fiber tearing on its axis as it's taken from me. Your smile I fell in love with. Your quiet "of course" when I would thank you for doing more then anyone else had before you. Teaching you to shoot, watching your eyes go wide when I showed you something new. How tight you'd hold me after not seeing me for too long. These are not mine anymore, and having them torn from me will make me bleed to death. I have to, this sweeping insensitivity is the only thing that will keep me alive.

I want to bleed for you, but you've lost license to my devastation. I can't let you see me hurt. I can't let you know I'm suffering even as you're enjoying relief. I can only grow bitter. Wish you'd be here for me when I need you most and instead grow familiar with the cold void where your arms used to be. I can't peel you from my heart, I can only let it grow quiet and cold as it was before I met you. I can retreat. I can grow cynical and give up on what you made me feel, as I had before I met you. I can see your flaws, try to forget the force behind my words each and every time I told you I loved you. Quiet the heart, slow the breath, dim the thoughts. Every day is a battle to keep breathing, and you were my only ally. The lights dim out one after another and you were my sun in a patch of dying stars, and as the lights go out and a chill creeps over my skin, I have a choice. I can sit in the dark and cry for the memory of light, or I can forget I ever lay in the sun. I can forget how much I loved laying with you, driving with you, fixing your parking jobs and protecting you. I can die a little to live. Or at least to breathe. 

So I will look forward to cold steed, to harsh judgements and the lights on the horizon seeming further and further away each day. It will seem like yesterday, and then perhaps months ago. Soon it will feel like a lifetime ago, and then finally it will seem so odd, so strange that someone might have loved me, that it will feel like it all happened to someone else. Someone not like me, someone who doesn't live like this. Till, no, you won't care a bit, no, you won't care a bit. I love you so much, too much, but it will break me to ever say that again. 

And this is what dying feels like. Happy valentines day.