Love without Tragedy.

I'm leaving. Making a concious effort to do so. No longer do I want to be part of your recollection nor do I need a space in your heart. I find it quite tragic that even that simple process is self consuming in itself. Making me question if the choices I've made in my life currently, truly benefit my well being. I'm happy. Can you believe that? Despite that agony and the fearfullness of your void. I'd be a liar if I said I am not falling in love with my situations, my rountines, my joy that touches depts of my soul. I'm trying with everything in me to let past heartache play an example in this explosion. But I'm tired. Tired of hearing your name, hearing your progress. I'm exhausted of having to share my mind with these long, over detailed memories. I'm disgusted by how much you once moved me. How much I came to truly love you. I don't hate you. My objective will never be to. I just don't want to carry your memory anymore. I don't need it, nor do I desire it. I want to barry you deep beneath the concrete I use to hold myself down. I need to fully understand that the only benefit that you give me is to use you as my stepping stone and to cross your name off. I'll never understand how a bond so merciful can be outshined by desires far beyond being skin deep.