More often than not, I have been sad in my life. That is the thing about being sad. You get used to it. You get accustomed to it. It wraps you around like a fog and you cannot see things clearly. At first, you want to see the end of the road, you struggle, but then you slowly sink in the bliss of the feeling of being numb because you cannot see the end of the road and there is no destination anymore. The fog becomes your comfort zone and you don’t want to trade it with a sunny day.
The coldness in your bones begins to creep inside your heart and finds a way to your head. You begin to replay the memories and try to find out what was real and what was not? At that moment, I swear I loved you more than myself. Now, I feel nothing about you. What is real and what is not? All those precious memories I treasured are now equivalent to the teenager’s drunk hangovers. What is real and what is not? And what if, what feels so real today feels nothing tomorrow? What is real and what is not?
As my mind races through these question marks, I begin to realize how sorry I am. I am sorry from the side of the both of us for it took us so long to finally let each other go; that we held each other so tightly, we were choking each other; that we were so desperate to feel right about our choices that we tried to modify who we were just to feed our ego to prove we are right.
You deserved this apology from the day we met, from the day we took our shining hearts and turned them into rust with our tears. You deserve this apology for it took us so long to realize that when things don’t fit in the empty spaces you shouldn’t force them in because that’s how things break and that is how we got broken. It took us so long to realize that we were unhappy and it was happiness we wanted, not the people. This is an apology for it took us so long to realize we were just bruising and making each other bleed all the time through our rusty hearts.