Had we not chosen to let go, I would have never discovered my passion for writing…
This is the last letter I’ll be writing to you. Treat this as my final goodbye.
We have finally reached the four-month mark since we parted ways. Oh, how fast time flies. So much has changed. You’ve started wearing hipster glasses, while I’ve dyed my hair reddish-brown. You’ve become an aspiring photographer, while I’ve become a budding singer. You’re finally pushing through with your dream of working up in the sky, while I’ve just discovered my dream of influencing lives even after I die.
So much has changed, yet so much remains the same.
How is it that after four long months we still look at each other the same way? How is it that after four long months we still feel the heartbreak as if it were only yesterday? How is it that after four long months we still struggle to let go every single day?
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