As much as I hated the silence, I also found a small part of me that appreciated it. Because, even for just a brief moment, it allowed me to escape the chaos that surrounded me. Silence, as unnerving as it was, was also rather beautiful.
Sometimes the hardest part isn’t letting go but rather learning to start over.
You love them, even though they’re gone. In order to love you need to live, if you give up on life you can no longer love. You’d no longer have the capability to love them.
How could you explain to someone that sometimes it was not worth living in the past when the past was all that they had worth living for?