This is me accepting that you are leaving. This is me knowing that we do not get a do-over. I know I do not get to go back in time and kiss you slower, love you stronger, linger five extra minutes in your truck. This is me knowing that I can not rewind history. This is my acceptance that I am going to miss you. That for a long time I am going to see you everywhere; in second floor windows, in the faces of strangers, in the photos and memories that tear on my heartstrings for months after you are gone. This is me knowing that we are going to grow old. That your life is going to be huge and important and full of love but that it is all going to transpire without me. That I am not going to be there to toast to your 50th birthday or cheers to your timely promotion or crawl in beside you on the nights when the world’s weight is too heavy to bear. This is me knowing that I have to let you go. That no matter how much I love you or how hard we work at this or how badly we both want each other to be happy, we are never going to be the right partners for each other. This is my acceptance that the best things are never straightforward and that I want you to take whatever crooked, twisted path you need to take if it will lead you towards your dreams. This is me knowing that I have to do what is right. So this is me unclasping my fingers. This is my parting, my reluctance, my heartache, and my final gift to you. This is me letting you go.