Life’s interesting, you know? As much as you can mentally prepare yourself for a moment, that at first seems so daunting, when the expectation is succeeded, you don’t know how to feel. You were so caught up, so paralysed by the negative outcomes and how to cope, that you forgot how to live.
It’s crazy, isn’t it? A simple phrase. “I’m sorry.” Words that seem minuscule, insignificant, yet carry so much meaning. We were taught these words, “please, sorry thank you” ever since we knew how to speak, and despite this, they still stab like a knife in the heart.
But that’s life, right? What we’re always told. “Life’s hard. Life’s not fair. Deal with it.” Truth be told, it is hard to deal with it. So much history, so much time, and in the end, it all seems to have gone to waste.

3 years.

3 beautiful years.

3 meaningful years.

3 useful years.

Now ugly. Now meaningless. Now redundant. It’s a shame that this time went to waste. I realise now I had forgotten how to live, how to breathe. Looking back, I had always thought this moment was a figment of my imagination, something I would never gain the courage to do.
Somehow I did it. Yes, I had expected the response, and I had prepared myself for failure, but still. Still. There was that everlasting pain that continues even today, that never ending feeling, the repetition of those words in my mind.
The next weeks were hell on Earth. Rumours, lies, questions, begging for answers, spread like wildfire, reducing everything I had kept to myself to ashes. All that remained was the things I held closest to my heart, but even those began to slip away. It wasn’t all bad; I grew connections, built stronger bonds, when everyone was separated. It gave me this newfound joy, awakening my inner desires, as the new year rolled around.
Resolutions are such a wonderful thing, aren’t they? A moral, a goal, to fulfill by the end of the year. The troubles of the past had made me not judge others, but judge myself. I began to realise that whatever had happened was my fault, and I pledged myself on a path of self-improvement.
Despite the connections I made, as always, I screwed something up. Just like that, with one false move, one wrong step, I was separated. Separated from people due to myself. Separated from people due to my actions. Maybe, it wasn’t meant to be.
But, every once in a while, I go back, scroll through the conversations, the joy, the pain, and reminisce upon the friend I could have had.

-FN