I’m sorry if you got yourself caught up by the indecisive and impulsive person that I am. I’m sorry that it was your fate that intertwined with mine at some point in the road. Like a stain that leaves an indelible yellow mark as you try to put bleach on it. I”m sorry it had to be me. I’m sorry I pricked you with the thorns on all of the roses you gave me. I’m sorry that I cut you with the jagged edges of that part of my heart that was still left unmended. I’m sorry if I ever ruined a part of you that cannot be undone. I’m sorry I took a portion of you that I cannot give back. I’m sorry I was silent all along. I’m sorry to still bother you despite it all. If I knew it would turn up to be like this, I would never have let you in. If it meant preserving you. And controlling me. And leaving us still whole. Now we’re just not the same people we used to be anymore. A lot has changed – for the better, for the worse? I don’t know which. But in the light of where I am at now, I don’t like the looks of it. I lost a friend. And I don’t think its worth the bargain of the experiences I gained as a consolation to it. I wish I never let you in; if keeping you out meant safety. Safety from the mess that I am. I wish black never blended with white, now all I have is gray. How it pains me to think I am running away from a friend. How cruel could love be when it is shared not at the right time, place, or perhaps, person. I’m sorry we had the misfortune, or the privilege, to share it in that context.

In all of this, I know you might say you have forgiven me. And that you wish to move on from there. And I know it, and I believe it that you really do have forgiven me, even as I write these things to you. Perhaps, all the sorry is not for you, but for me. Perhaps I haven’t totally forgiven myself yet. I took the heartbreaking in so very seriously that I haven’t really totally forgiven myself yet. There’s a hope in me that someday, I’ll learn to forgive myself. I’ll begin to accept that some things cannot be undone anymore, and forgiving doesn’t always mean getting back together. I’ll have to be brave and reason with the blind optimism nature in me. If I am to be an optimist, I should be hoping to accept that life goes on, even after a break up. Whether you did this to the person, or that person did that to you, it’s all the same conclusion: :Life, still goes on. And you just have to keep walking. And you just have to keep on moving forward, because no other road holds more genuine hope than the road ahead.