pstlapsecassiel

There is a kind of sadness that simply does not go away, even after
love is long gone and forgotten, and when anger flares. I am reminded
of it every single time I walk into my apartment and remember that I
lived for over a month with someone who was lying to me when we had
agreed that we would never keep anything from each other. I have a
feeling that the anger and the sorrow are mine for good, and I would
rather have my other self back.
Even though that has made it easier to erase all love and care I felt,
it is almost like a fall from innocence. Ironically, I did not think
I had any left.

Yet, when I think of a couple of people that make my head turn and my
heart skip a beat, I realize that the person I am at my most
fundamental level is not gone, and I am as likely to plunge into
possibilities as ever. Just because the entire reality of a year
dissolved under the weight of deceit, it does not mean that a
non-illusory future is foreclosed.

I live a live that was thoroughly unforeseen five, ten years ago.
Somehow, it continues to improve. Regretting having met a single
person in 33 years is not a bad record at all, I think.