Farewell
I'm listening to August 10 as i'm writing this. Isn't it funny that my last post (partly about you) was on August 10th? Maybe it meant something.
I'm only realising now that I never got to say a proper goodbye to you. Maybe if I had more patience, it wouldn't have ended up like this. I could've said a proper goodbye—maybe I wouldn't have had to say goodbye in the first place. But would I have been happy? I'm not sure.
So, this post will be my true goodbye. You'll probably see this one way or another, I know you're still stalking my accounts.
I didn't hate you. I truly did love you. You were my best friend. I'm not a liar. But I think you might've been. My thoughts are still all muddy, I can't tell what was true or not, what was me perceiving things wrongly, or what was manipulation. If there even was any manipulation. Maybe I'm still being manipulated!
That's the problem, though. I just don't know. I never knew with you, and I suppose I never will.
I hope you can find happiness. I don’t think you’re currently a particularly good person, but I do hope you can change. It’ll be sad, you changing and growing without me, but I suppose that’s just what it is now.
Someday, I’ll forget you. As of right now, you’re plaguing my thoughts, but I know that won’t be forever. You’ll occupy less and less of my thoughts, until you’re just a distant memory. I assume the same will happen with you about me—except the thoughts will probably be more hateful.
That’s a sad thought. You’ll never be in my life again, and I’ll never be in yours. I’ve never experienced such a final goodbye before, it’s so incredibly jarring to me.
I didn’t get to say a goodbye. But in the back of my mind, I feel as if I’ve said a million. Every time you’d leave, I prepared for it to be the end—even while I prayed for it not to be—I was still ready. I guess you were training me, huh?
I think I can say the final final goodbye now. Can finally get some closure, and learn how to forget you.
So then, farewell. Live your life to the fullest.