It is too late for regret

On the off chance that you stumble upon this, I feel sorry, but in case you are wondering, this is not an apology.

There were times, where certain words or phrases could trigger the side of me that I thought I have buried with my own hands a long time ago. Those dark patches of my past that I have decided to lock away, somehow always find their way, crawling back into my consciousness the moment the voices carrying the trigger phrases register their presence in my mind. It was like opening the dam, flooding every single one of my cells with this familiar feeling of anger, and disappointment. I tore down that mask made out of pity, mechanical smiles, only to reveal that old bloody scar you left on my face.

Hello there my old friend, or should I call you my oldest foe.

Looking into the disappointment in your eyes, I suddenly realized you see exactly what I see in you. Ironic isn’t it? We are both so consumed by our disappointments, that we choose to let the void fill the space between us, instead of words.

My thoughts and my belief were the final straws that broke your pride. I suppose that was the price you must pay, for my freedom. My mind, unchained, untainted, and unbounded, roamed freely in the wild, free of the cycle of hatred and imagined yet twisted narrative of the past, free of the shackles that anchored me deep, deep down in the well, where there’s only a tiny glimpse of the sky.

I am free.

I can feel your regrets. Yes, I know. I also know how much you wish things would have been different. I wish it could have been different too. It does sound cliché, but it is what it is.

I will no longer try to break down that barrier you have built around you. I have tried, for far too long. Maybe I just lack the wits to convince you, or maybe it’s something else. At least, I have tried.

I will still be here, waiting, patiently. The day may come, where we can again let the words fill the void between us. Or it might not. Either way, I will be here, waiting for it to come.