Saying Farewell
3:53 pm
You've changed, my
friend.
That's what I'd like to believe, but, then again, there comes a
rush of cliché that you were probably never like the person I've
thought I knew. The truth is, though, that as every single cell
changes in your body within a month, you are physically bound to
change every second. Changing so much and so frequently that you simply cannot
hold a personality together for long, especially when the outside
keeps switching, too.
You see, I was mad, I
was full of anger, wrath of a child, rage of the forgotten, but
I've just realized, you had to alter to suit your life more properly.
That is weak, and yes, I think you are weak, too, but I have no doubt
that I often sink to such depths myself as well. It is weak to impose
the change in order to fit the norm, to make yourself attractive for
all the self-absorbed little bondage-freaks around you. But I know
why you do that. You felt alone, you wanted comfort and instead of
releasing the pressure of the sickening shackles, you left yourself
be bound, limited, what's more: you added to it yourself, so you
could be like Them, the Others. There, now. Your children feed on
you, because you've built a part of them inside you. You have lost
yourself to the great world.
And how do I know that?
You've left me, first, to begin your shift towards the adored
nothingness. I didn't tell you what to do, I failed to be the
soothing balm that would justify your mental self-annihilation. I
loved you and you chose to move – so I did what I would have
expected from anybody else in the same situation, I let you go and
watched, watched closely, if you had any shard of lack. You didn't.
You just needed me to let you go to change entirely, into somebody who
has no use of me anymore.
I understand now. I've
bent my shackles and plan to destroy them entirely. Though I know you
will fail in trying to find peace in others to make it yours and I
will miss you, I know, we both need to walk our paths alone. I can't
meddle in your decisions, I cannot step with your feet. I'll step
with mine, alone, for I fear myself not anymore. May you fly and
falter and fail. Our paths crossed and they seem to have parted.
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