Writing you,

Tonight I watched the last faint glow of the moon disappear forever behind the clouds and I thought that would scare me... But I'm more afraid of the way I felt the weight of your love lift off my shoulders, and terrified at the thought of mine being ball and chained to your ankle...leaving bits and pieces of me in every square inch of every footprint your dusty black shoes are walking away from...

And before I met you I couldn't understand how something so simple as love could stretch to the moon and back, but darling, somehow you made me believe that ours could... But nobody ever told me that Peru was farther away than the moon and 

I think your love is getting tired, love. 

And my knuckles are bruised from wrapping the "E" through my fisted fingers as many times as possible because it's only been 4 months and I'm selfish, 

                                        I know this,

But I can't let myself give you up so soon... 

Not when only 120 days ago I watched you tuck our "L" into your suite pocket, and waved goodbye to "O" and "V" as they stretched through city after city in an attempt to keep up with you and the beginning of everything any of us had ever known. 

And it was only when I lost sight of "O"'s beautiful arches and curves, and "V"'s glorious magnitude faded from view, that your voice no longer felt familiar. And the way your lips felt against the tip of my nose is but a faint whisp of some memory that only reappears in the darkest hours of the morning and the brightest of afternoons.

And I cried when I saw how stretched thin "E" was, and the vibrant colors that once made up my memories of you are now dull and peeling. 

And I started writing when I realized that some part of me wished I could let you go. 

I started writing when I realized that some part of me wanted to let you go... And I think that scares me more than the moon or our love ever could.