They say goodbyes are hard but non-goodbyes are harder. It is like drifting to the unknown. Waiting for someone, anyone, to pull the trigger. To fire the first shot. But no one wants the other one to bleed, so they endure a kind of purgatory. It is awkward. So much awkward. Very awkward. Our choices were reduced to faking that we’re okay with what we have. But are we? Sometimes, I feel sorry. Sorry for what we have become. Sorry for the consequences but less sorry for what I did. Is it wrong? Yes. Was it completely wrong? I don’t know. It was our thing…then. It wouldn’t be anymore. We can’t go back to what we were anymore. That would be so fake that it will pollute the air around us. Wrapping our lungs with regrets, what ifs, and anger. I don’t want anger. Not from you and not for you.
The pieces fell but not in the way I thought they would. The wave came but it drowned us instead of pushing us in the right direction. We didn’t take the leap that faith was wanting us to do. We are cowards. Slaves to our comforts. Complacency, along with a hundred more, is our sin. What worked will still work, right? Yes. Hopefully. Because if a thing change, even just a pea-sized change happened, it will be disastrous. Haven’t it occurred already though? Things changed already. Our habits discontinued because they seem wrong now. That even civility could be misconstrued. Where do we stand now, then?
At the edge of an ending. Do we have to say goodbye? No, not really. For now, I only hope for peace. That we are at peace of who we’ve become after all those things. Not just of that day or of a week but of the years spent. I want us to accept who we are…separately. We can’t leave a place we haven’t reached yet. We are leaving the road. Trying other options of that forked road we passed by. Later, it could be much later, we might even grow some balls and be able to talk about this. About our non-goodbye. For now…what do we do now? Let me state this unsent letter and may the wind bring this to you.
Sorry. ‘Til later, much later.