This Is How You Let Go
There's no such thing as hidden meanings. You have to listen to what they say when the words come tumbling from their mouths. Even when those words taste bitter and are difficult to swallow.
You let go because they were honest from the get go about what they were looking for. You let go because even though you changed and you shifted, they stayed true to what they initially stated. When people tell you something, even when they’re naked and fingertip tracing the paths your freckles create along on your forearms, you have to force yourself to remember that they aren’t lying. There’s no such thing as hidden meanings. You have to listen to what they say when the words come tumbling from their mouths. Even when those words taste bitter and are difficult to swallow.
You let go because it’s what they want and you can never force someone to want you. No matter how you calculate, how you paint yourself, how you expertly toss your hair over one shoulder and slowly blink pretending to be more casual than you are you can’t force people to fall for you. You cannot make someone say “That. I want that.” Desire is organic and try as you might, you can’t fabricate or coerce anyone into feeling any specific way about you.
You let go because you said you would. You said you would let things play out naturally and when they reached their stopping point your wouldn’t attempt to push it beyond it’s limits or beat a dead horse. You’d wave goodbye, smile at what was, and let bygones be bygones. You say goodbye because even though you’re begging the sun to stay set for a second longer it one hundred percent time to wake up.
You let go because you’re strong enough to admit when something isn’t working. You know what you want, know what you need. And if the other party isn’t able to suffice you aren’t going sit there, wringing away at something that is already bone dry in a sad attempt to produce something that never existed in the first place. You know better. You’ve always known better.
You let go because the movie moment of you drinking alone and then feeling arms wrap around you from behind isn’t going to happen. You keep listening for a voice that’s unseen, a sign to come to tell you you’re right and instead it’s 1 AM and you’re drunk alone in your bed, tossing and turning and kicking at twisted sheets wondering where you took a wrong turn. So you release and forget what made your stomach flip because stomach flips are deceiving and butterflies cloud your judgment.
You let go because it’s what they want.
You let go because it’s kind.
You let go because you know that even though it hurts it’s better in the long run.
You let go because if you don’t you’re going to be fifty percent responsible for breaking your own heart. 
