There are words that must be said. You part ways with a person, but inside you live a couple of phrases that will torment you until you release them. It’s not necessarily that the person they’re meant for should hear them… And it’s not even necessary for anyone to hear them at all. They must be said, otherwise the circle won’t be completed, the period won’t be placed. Of course, it’s always better when they’re said to the specific person, but the importance lies in the saying… If they need to, they will find the person they are meant for… And if not – then…
But here they are – quietly curled up like a fluffy cat, waiting to pounce. They will happen, like dawn. Like a tide, like morning dew. Quietly, but perceptibly.
They carry feelings – these quiet last words. And who must one be to deny a person these last words? The last ones in the history of two people.
Perhaps you will never read these words. Well, it’s not meant to be for you to meet them. But I will still say them.
I still haven’t learned to love in such a way that the purity of this love disarms pain and fear. Mine and that of the one I love. You might have thought anything, but I tried. I was ready to go through it together, both long and hard, as well as short and easy. I am very sorry that you had to act dishonestly. I always cared and thought about you. And I continue to care and think. And even if it turns out that all of this was an artificially created illusion, I will still remain honest – at least to myself