Losing desire

What are we still doing here? Slowly drifting apart while clutching at moments that once brought joy—now slipping through our fingers. Those times have passed us by, leaving only endless, unwinnable battles. Two losers, waiting for the other to make the bigger mistake, so pointing fingers feels easier. We end up hating that we met, yet our dying love anchors us together, no matter how clear the signs of separation grow.

Love is unconditional, but somehow, each turn demands new conditions to make it feel worthwhile. Quitting becomes a word we use to dress up the desire for release, but in truth, we’re fools who’d rather suffer than let go. Torn between loving you forever and never seeing you again, I find myself trapped. It’s terrifying — I only know how to be with you, and I love how that usually feels, but those moments never last. Fighting the truth is temporary; the thought of life without you feels unimaginable.

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