Letting go has always been an issue for me: letting go of objects, articles of clothing, and people that I can’t remember why I am friends with. I didn’t really realise this until I broke up with my ex.
My notions of love were built on Nicholas Sparks’s books, and Hollywood movies; there’s always one grand gesture of love and everything works out; there are no religious differences, no caste differences, no language barriers.
The hardest part about losing someone you’re not ready to lose is accepting the fact that you're better off without this person in your life; that your days will be brighter without them; that all the love you gave them wasn't enough. It’s accepting that this person you lost was okay with losing you.