The sand in my hair hasn't completely washed out, and there's a slight scent of salt in my skin, along with a couple of memories that define how the future will be.
I've always been afraid of making mistakes, I believe I've made it clear in this year I've been writing this blog, but apparently fear is useless and I keep making too many of them. Even when I'm careful enough, even when I try my hardest not to talk, someone else does it for me.
And if I ever had hope, and if I ever expected things to change, then I was wrong, perhaps something greater than me tries to tell me it isn't supposed to happen.
I found a note I wrote on January the 8th of 2006, over three years. It clearly states how everything happened, things I had completely forgotten. Once an important philosopher said that it was important to know why things came to be, and whether or not the reason was still there.
My reason isn't here anymore. I did learn that I wasn't true, and yet everything continued.
There are things that are never supposed to happen.
And tomorrow, tomorrow [today] was supposed to be a great day, and it probably will, but deep inside, knowing that it might be one of the last I get to see him, knowing that I won't be able to look at him in the eyes and that there will be no "hi", no wave, no nothing, knowing that it will be just how it was today [yesterday]. It kind of make me want not to go, but at the same time, one last time, I shouldn't waste, even if it hurts a little bit.
But there is a brighter side, Today, I am more than willing to start over, to start over and finally closing a chapter that lasted way too long.
I've always been afraid of making mistakes, I believe I've made it clear in this year I've been writing this blog, but apparently fear is useless and I keep making too many of them. Even when I'm careful enough, even when I try my hardest not to talk, someone else does it for me.
And if I ever had hope, and if I ever expected things to change, then I was wrong, perhaps something greater than me tries to tell me it isn't supposed to happen.
I found a note I wrote on January the 8th of 2006, over three years. It clearly states how everything happened, things I had completely forgotten. Once an important philosopher said that it was important to know why things came to be, and whether or not the reason was still there.
My reason isn't here anymore. I did learn that I wasn't true, and yet everything continued.
There are things that are never supposed to happen.
And tomorrow, tomorrow [today] was supposed to be a great day, and it probably will, but deep inside, knowing that it might be one of the last I get to see him, knowing that I won't be able to look at him in the eyes and that there will be no "hi", no wave, no nothing, knowing that it will be just how it was today [yesterday]. It kind of make me want not to go, but at the same time, one last time, I shouldn't waste, even if it hurts a little bit.
But there is a brighter side, Today, I am more than willing to start over, to start over and finally closing a chapter that lasted way too long.
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