An end before the end

I came to the conclusion that I have to try something else that’s different from what I have been doing for the last few years. But in order to make a great effort, I believe it is necessary to put an end to this blog. At least to symbolize my focus on the future, not the past.

There isn’t a single moment in my past that I wish I could relive. Though this sounds exaggerated, I assure you that I have thought excessively before saying that. Between the things I wrote here, and the things that happened before the blog, there are enough reasons to aim for something different in the future.

The best thing that could happen is that I would forget about the blog and everything that happened. I would have too many new memories to remember everything. Then, when I’m old, I will look it up and read it. Hopefully, in comparison with my better memories, everything in the blog would seem so distant. Hopefully, it would seem as if this blog was written by someone I don’t know but I sympathize with.

The worst thing that could happen is that everything will repeat, and I will just start another blog. I have an uncle that I respect who doesn’t seem to be living a good life. I see almost everyone in the family patronizing him and agreeing with whatever he says. Sometimes they would whisper to me after he leaves that he’s lost it. But he seems sane to me whenever I talk to him, and I always tell them that I don’t get it. I fear that one day they would treat me the same way they treat him (maybe it has happened already).

I am becoming 25 years old; I had to think for a bit to calculate how old I should be. I think I’ll write a few more posts. There are a few things I want to bury in this blog, and hopefully leave here forever. I’ll end the blog with the post I’ll write on my upcoming birthday.

A Pure Apology

Nothing remains but memories of feelings. And only now do I have a more objective view, perhaps (somewhat) similar to yours.

I still remember you on occasion, when the moon is especially bright, or when the night is especially dark and missing something.

This is a pure apology; nothing but an admittance of guilt and an expression of regret.

I am sorry.

I guess this is the classic procedure, how things like this end; nothing out of the ordinary. Many stages, but at the end is a pure 100% apology. A letter devoid of anything but guilt, regret, and memories. A letter so unlike anything I have written for you in the past.
But I stand by my apology, I was wrong and I regret having written any of them.

It’s a near impossible task for me to write more, though I want to express more. I want to remain in touch, if only by writing letters that you cannot read. But how do I address you? A past lover, or a past opponent? A stranger ? but I cannot see you as a stranger anymore.

It must be part of the classic procedure. If the apology is pure, after it comes nothing.