Day Seven — Seven Days

It’s been a week.

Seven days of struggling and surviving.
Seven days of trying to start a new beginning without really knowing the end.
Seven days of desperation, frustration, and expectation. 
Seven days since you asked me to leave and stop fighting.

Does a week make a change? It probably does.
So far, I’ve learned to live without hoping when I’m not missing you.
And when I’m missing you, I just breathe.
It gets harder everyday, but it works.

I know you’re not mine.
But you’re my reason.
My reason to believe that no matter how hard I try to stop myself from loving, I have no other way than to let it grow.

Starts right from the moment I wake up in the morning, until I close my eyes at night.
Every day.

It’s been seven days.
And for every day, one letter.

— April 6