Sunday 16 August 2009

What can I. . .?


Said to Gen., “It’s no use saying such a thing now. Too late. Nothing can be retrieved. No need to excuse or explain. That’s alright as it is. If you earnestly loved. . . please just let it be.” Am I hypocritical? Is it really OK? Is there no bitter feeling? Is there truly no reluctance to give up?

Needless to say, there has been regret. (He would do.) Couldn’t help despairing. (Might he do.) It was a Hell in a sense, almost death. (Said he did.) Must have been beyond the death, you know. Through all odds, I’m here now. Cannot go back, cannot repeat, and cannot be down below, deep in a hole or void.

Had we really loved? Did I? Did he? Whatever is said, it is absolutely yesterday. The more we try to take it back, the more we’ll be miserable. (Definitely it’ll be.) I Don’t want to humiliate myself anymore, you know. Now it’s none of my business. Not to put it on me! I can’t help it, can’t manage it, can’t stand it. Want to keep the last thing I have, pride or self-respect. I don’t mind being said selfish. Yes, totally selfish, rather cruel, I know. I’ll just be in my way.

Bye Gen.!

Brit...

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