Is there always a reason?

He has a girlfriend.
I once needed him like air is to life. What part of him does it belong to me, now? Who am I to have a say? He had every right. We have gone our separate ways. Why haven’t I let go? How did he let go?

How does it work? Why didn’t it work?

If things were different, could it have worked? Or were we fated to part?

How do we leave a piece of memory out? How does a feeling, a sound, stay on for so long?

As I sat outside the library, all I wanted to do was numb it out. Indulge into it, like never before. Maybe I never truly wanted to let go. Let it be tamed and domesticated as Gramsci would put it.
Does it work?