Deep down, you knew the fantasy wasn’t real.
You’re part realist. Part dreamer. But you’re not detached from reality.
You realize your chapter together closed. It’s a blister wrapped novel on the shelf. A broken telephone. A glimmer of hope was introduced, and it was lovely. But your life’s too complex and complicated to explain over pleasantries.
Because you’re trapped. Like a ferret for its hide. Bleeding a slow death. Like a trophy in a sealed case. Collecting years of dust.
You had the chance, and you never wrote a word. A regret? Life’s too short for regrets. But life’s too short for unhappiness, such as that relatable whithering ferret.
But you wonder: were you both trapped? Were they hurting as you were in silence on a different level. And putting on a brave act.
Your realist side is at odds with the dreamer. You release the hold on them. It’s not logical. But it is logical. And you have no choice. Even though you do. But in this case, you can’t win.
Because they don’t want you to be their happily ever after, fairytail ending.
A sign you should let go of once upon a time.