The last piece of cake

it’s said, believed, foretold, questioned, wondered upon “Do you love me enough, to let me go?”
I have been wondering for not since forever but this fleeting moment, the meaning and the purpose behind this tragic saying. Is love not enough to make you stay? I thought it was one of those things whose definition definitely has that aspect of an enduring, everlasting, eternal bond. Something beyond doubt that talks of attachment, admiration, the feeling of belonging.

But dare I question this ‘Love’? If this is what it has to talk of, then why let go?
And if attachment is weakness then why does this ‘love’ even exist?
It’s nothing to stay, because its consequence and conclusion lies in letting go.
I have a tendency of finding my answers, or jotting down what I feel within.
I like reaching an end, a conclusion. But here, I only have doubts. And this piece is only going to be hanging with lose ends, hanging by in all our memories. Just like that last bite of cake lying around, or the incomplete canvas, the unbounded album, the unwritten letter lying in your last drawer.
I don’t want to be incomplete; neither do I want someone to walk by to complete me.
I want to be a whole, by my own self. But then I want that one little piece of cake, a complete canvas, a beautiful bounded  album filled with memories oozing out tenderness, the complete letter stamped, posted and received.

I don’t want the kind of love, with the condition to be let go. I want the kinds to stay.

 
I am here to stay.