Looking back now, he used to tell her, the toughest, possibly most nerve-wrecking thing he had ever had to do, was to win over a heart as beautiful as hers.
You catch him in the glimpse of your eye, looking at you the way that little girls dream of, a prince and a princess finally in love… Together. You reach out across the swingset, never too far apart as you see his beautiful laugh and flashing smile, just to grasp his hand once again. Swinging in perfect synchronicity, it is as if the perfection of every moment would never cease to exist.
He would throw her up in the air, catching her in one swift move before enveloping her in his arms again. The loving and vibrant and brilliant arms that seemed to always symbolize their commitment and their love towards one another. The arms of a man in love… Or supposedly.
Perhaps the most awful thing about losing someone so close and dear to you is all the hard little obstacles you have to jump over just to feel human again. There is a pit where your stomach should be and an empty nest where the butterflies used to thrive. There is a hole in your heart and vines and thorns where the roses used to bloom. Perhaps, you never really stop asking yourself why. Why you were never good enough for him. Why you were never enough to make him happy… And maybe the worst of all, why you were never strong enough to let him go. When you still had the chance.
She never did tell him what the toughest, possibly most nerve-wrecking thing she had ever had to do was. Maybe she did not even know at that time. But one day, she finally stood in front of the mirror with tears streaming down her shirt, nails bitten to the bone in agony, only to realize…
The toughest thing for her to ever have to do… Was let him go.
And never look back.