I was once told by someone that we’re not getting younger and it’s sad that my case isn’t that much so.
Time flies by me just like it does to everyone else, but I don’t know if someone out there is still madly haunted by some ghost of the past like mine.
There is no need to write about this. In fact, I’ve posted much of what I had recently on this blog, just to be away from many people who know me, and think know me. But as obstinate as I am, well, then here it goes.
If you’re here, then you must probably know that this is about you.
You’re entitled to navigate away if you want. Honestly, I would rather have you not here and read this, because this is only a testimony of my frailty, of my misery because of you.
And yes, after all this time, it will still be about you.
Ghosts of the past have been so lost in the past. This modern world leaves no place for past-dwelling egocentrics. That is why I’m still caught in the past, of our past.
It sucks to be me. The one who loves too much, and gets hurt too much. But there is no blame against you. I gave all that I had in my will, not according to what you asked. I remember, you never actually asked. I guess we just happened.
I will always treasure what we had. I will always embrace all of that which you have taught me back then. I will always cherish those memories, every single one of them and allow them to guide me as I face my future. I will always remember what you told me, what you did to me, what you made me feel, every bit of that past we once had. Yet I still regret that all of that is now left in the past. I still brood that all of that is gone, that what all that I gave was still not enough to make you stay. After all, I will always remember EVERYTHING.
If this still bothers me, I know it will only be because of me. I can only ask myself why…..
Maybe because I find things that remind me about you. To remember you is a slow, painful, emotional suicide.
I understand that I offended you when I said that it insults me to be reminded of you, of us. And you should be. It was definitely off-tune to tell you that but I KNOW you also understand why I feel that way.
I understand that you had to leave because it was for your good, for your happiness that I can never give, and I do not hold anything against you for leaving me.
I understand that you’ve already moved on, it’s not a surprise, it’s been years and I can expect that I have been replaced, and that’s fine with me.
But I don’t understand why you have to remind me, that something else has to remind me, even though there is no intention to do so. I don’t understand why I have to remember, why I have to be the ONE to remember.
There is no direct mention about me in any of your writings, I guess you didn’t want me to get a hunch that you are writing about me. But there is no need for names, the message embodied is enough to catch my attention, to wake my sleeping loneliness, to snap me out of my solitary confinement of my inner self.
But if I’m wrong to think that it’s about me, about what I feel, then please tell me, even not directly. I would even prefer that you tell me unknowingly in your writing.
I still find it insulting that I’m writing about you. Like I said, there is no need to. But expectedly, it’s only in words that I can let out all these that disturb me inside. I know you realize how important words are to me as they were vital to us before. And only my own words can help me, because yours give me too much confusion, too much excitement and anticipation, too much false hopes.
You are aware about how much you became a part of me, and what I am today is again just a product of you, what you made me, what resulted of the past that until now remains my immortal shell. But this is no question about how much’s but why’s. But don’t worry though, I am not asking the same questions from way back before. Actually, there are no questions here, only a handful of worthless speech.
Too bad that what I intended to write flew off and this piece will only turn out incomplete and illegible. I’m still so bad at closures.
Don’t worry though, I don’t expect that you understand. But I hope that soon I can make you understand.
Oh and, thank you, for not reading this.