And Sylvia Plath ever wrote, “ And so it seems, I must always write you letters that I can never send.” If it’s meant to be unsaid and left burried as a torment, let it be.
And forgiveness have never comes easy with the very sufficient amount of our egos, anxiety, pain , longing, resentment, and hatred.
“I was a fool to care.. I was a fool to care.. but I don’t care, even if I was a fool.” Sweet baby James doesn’t really fix things, lately.
But hey, I feel like apologizing, anytime. Self-blame was flooding my mind and I was getting to the point of loosing my self worth. In the end, faults leave scars, don’t they?
And in spite of everything, the door has been opened. Heart has long been recovered, and the long journey has long.. gone. I lost. Or perhaps, it was never meant to be win. Bygones are however, bygones.
However, my former home was used to be my home after all. The shape and the scenery might have changed and there might also be a new person who are now occupying the place I used to call my own. And I already have my new one.
And I still remember those amount of efforts I need to pay to fix the home. Furnished. Polished. Painted. It was sure, kind of emotionally draining that sometimes I wish I could leave the home soon back then. Now that I get what I want, it has been such a deep relevation.
But the traces linger. It is fainter than the scars but it’s also more transparent than an absence. And the good memories are still warm to revisit. And please don’t blame me as I’m taking the goods in anything, only.
It’s only to remind me how far I’ve gone with my life and how it have shaped me to be who I am now.
So, in the end, I’d still choose forgiveness over anything.
Have I ever told you that life was merely nothing but us being revolved and revolving? We both already know our center whenever we spin away, don’t we? I am mature enough to know that I am escaping the time. To write you a letter that I can never send.
Nights and the moon are created for those who are either in love or broken hearted. The moon is within the heart of those who are wide awake at 3 am, endlessly contemplating. The Night is the only time when people is getting real, naked, and honest. Whenever you see the moon, you’ll understand. Or perhaps, whenever I see it, it has also carried your secrets.
Forgive. I feel nothing left but to forgive.
Forgiveness is a two-way street in which when we forgive them, we also forgive and accept ourselves on being human.
“Maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much, and maybe this thing was masterpiece untill you tore it all up.” -Lost in Translation, 2003.