Putting the the past away isn’t the glorious act so many box office hits make it up to be. In reality, it pierces through the toughest defence like diahorrea through your burning arse.
I’ve never been able to cut through the crap. It takes me once, twice, trice or more to achieve the desired results. Something I’ve been egging myself on to change.
In the past two years, I’ve conquered every possible remnant left. Even direct confrontation.
Yet this. This I cannot forget. The crunching yet truthful anger that shot at me rings in my ears. The ringing becomes incessant. Continuous, deathly dirge.
I deserve it. I am sorry.
You never forgave me.
Maybe in time I will forgive myself.
Happy birthday.
