A little room for living.

You give yourself a reason not to believe, refusing to hope. It turns back and gnaws into your very being.

This is what I’ve become.

I was angry. I was frustrated. but mostly, I was wallowing in self-pity. I rued a lot of things concerning you. I abhorred my feelings for you. I rejected the friendship you gave.

All in the name of self-righteousness.

There was a time when I thought it would be better if you and I never met. Maybe then, I wouldn’t be what I am today. But, if you and I have never met, I would never have had the joy and pain of knowing you. I’ll keep those memories, because they’re the only proof that you and I ever met.

Being able to think like this…

I guess this is another step forward for me to letting go. Or just me being a bit more retarded.

Sense of achievement? Think not.