Hey guys This is the concluding piece to the other 5 romance short stories that i have written, once again i emphasise that it should (if i've written it correctly) make sense without having to read the others. Then again, it probably won't make a lot of sense even if you have Oh and could someone help me with my first sentence, the "yourself" comes up as an error in word and it wants to correct it to "you" which doesn't really work.
There’s a big difference between telling yourself something and actually believing it. Sometimes you don’t realise the lie you made until you see the truth.
The truth is blissful, a shining ray of light that manages to illuminate all the parts of my life that were enshrouded by darkness. Those parts had taken the opportunity to hibernate and I now find myself in a dazed sense of loss of time. How did so many weeks pass? How is winter nearly over? How did I get so far behind? While I’d been stuck in the shadows of this ditch the whole world had moved on without me. Now I’m playing catch up, but the point is that I’m back in the game, and loving it!
I can walk straight past you without really caring. And that’s what I’ve done, it’s almost strange when I get past you and I don’t feel some wretched emotion, contrarily I almost feel the small sense of pride you can feel after passing over an obstacle. My emotions have slithered between anger, betrayal, fear, remorse and sadness and now I’m proud to say that your presence doesn’t stir any emotion in me at all. Every time I walk past you it’s like I’m moving that little bit further on. Where on is, who knows? But it’s a hell of a lot more exciting than the hell I’ve been trapped in.
Not to say that your presence doesn’t still linger in my mind. I dream about you in the mornings, your eyes betraying the emptiness and lack of recognition that reflects what has become of us. They stare into space, you smile, but not at me. Were you ever smiling at me? When I first wake up I close my eyes and delve back into a more conscious form of dreaming where I’m the one making decisions and not my sightly confused conscience. The decisions aren’t great they’re leading me back down the dreaded path again I’ll admit, but they are only fleeting thoughts- I shudder to think of a place where all my wildest ideas came to fruition; it would be both the most magical and devastating place. That place is now hidden in a part of my mind that’s incorrectly labelled “abyss” and I haven’t fallen in for a while. I am happy.
Just because I'm strong now doesn't mean I'm not still a little fragile...
So maybe I’m avoiding my thoughts of you, and avoiding you literally. I’m certainly avoiding your eye, I don’t want to see the emptiness-a very small voice still longs for recognition but it’s become so feeble that I can’t even hear it. Maybe I’m going back and brushing away the footprints I made away from you. Maybe I still feel regret. Maybe I appreciate the lessons I’ve learned. Maybe my only regret is that I caused YOU pain. I will be forever sorry and forever unable to make amends, but I don’t worry about things I cannot change. Instead of looking backwards down that dark path to see its destruction, I’m realising that it’s a path I never, and won’t, ever wander down again.
The only parts missing are the sorry and the goodbye. I can’t really blame you for causing the hole that has now healed over. I was the one to push all the other parts out of me and make lots of room; it’s not really your fault that by leaving you left it empty. The room echoed, the walls stared down at me, the windows frowned, and the door was locked from the inside. Now I’ve found the key I hope you know what I now do. I hope you find the keys to your greatest dreams. I hope that you know that this isn’t your fault and I hope you learnt from my mistakes. I hope you know that pain is transient and that friendship will always be waiting for you. It’s all about choices, just because I came knocking ferociously at your door didn’t mean you opened up. The small glimpse I got as you peered outside was nothing but a small chink of glass. Instead of shining as I’d previously thought, the glass simply reflected all the light that I’d let in. All the effort that I’d put in wasn’t absorbed and, you know what, that’s your fault. Sure, you saw little sparkles, but you never truly looked long enough to realise the brilliance of the light I could bring.
All the roads to sorry are blocked; we passed the goodbye sign miles back. I hope that one day you’ll know that I never meant to cause you trouble. And I hope, just hope, that goodbye isn’t really left unsaid.
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