infection

Every time I muster the courage to tell myself it’s time for me to move on, there is nothing but panic. I tell myself it is okay to let you go and all the fibers of my being rebel against the thought, begging for you to come back. It’s cruel, the way I’m not allowed to let you go when I know it’s the best option. Missing you is constant, even if the intensity levels waver at times. I always feel the weight of missing you sink into my bones, whether it just is a subtle creak one day or a crushing crack the next. And sometimes, sometimes it hurts so badly that I feel all my bones will break under the pressure. So much of you resides in my body, radiating through my skin, slipping into my bloodstream, and pumping into my heart. How am I supposed to let you go without ruining myself?