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How lucky we are to experience boring, ordinary, uneventful days. Somewhere in the world, that kind of safety is unimaginable.

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It strikes me as crazy that one day you’re just supposed to stop loving someone. You’re supposed to stop talking to them. You’re supposed to stop waking up and video calling them. You’re supposed to never hear them laugh or make them laugh again. It strikes me as crazy that you’re supposed to stop thinking about them when you hear their favourite artist or eat their favourite dessert. How you’re supposed to be okay never hearing your name from their mouth again. Tell me, how do people survive it? Tell me, why aren’t people more stubborn in refusing to let go of someone they hold so close to their chest night after night, morning after morning. Tell me, how am I supposed to just move on as if we are strangers again, as if I never knew what it felt like when you kissed my face? When you held my hand? When you cared about my existence? How do I do that? I’m good at pretending… you have to pretend if you want to survive. I didn’t want yet another pretence of indifference towards a human I held to tenderly.