When you are intentionally too late.
Because it’s hard to face deep talking. Because you don’t want to complain. Because it’s easier to be blind when it comes to face agedness. Because it’s a pain. Because you pretend you are different now. Because you cut off your previous life you are not proud of, and it’s a pain to search for saving good things in it. Because he used to talk about significance of life, calling it God, while you made things easier banning God, significance and all that stuff you couldn’t make together in the category of “unsolvable”.
Because you just wanted a few more time far and alone to start from scratch, and that time was never enough.
Because in the end, you want to be accepted for what you are, and you know that what you are is never good enough.
And now that it’s too late, it’s nonsense to be sorry. It’s nonsense to feel sorry, to regret .
Some years ago I decided to reborn, to restart from year zero.
All I had been in the past, reshuffled.
I stopped giving love to people from “before”, because I didn’t love my previous life.
I had to start again to learn what love was, and how to give it.
Nevertheless, some of these people never stopped loving me. And now that he passed away, I realize how tiny my heart is, and has been so far, during my absence.
I tried to inbreathe him in the past, I wanted to absorb from him, to understand. I believe I simply didn’t had the right terrain to grow his seeds.
But even if I turned my back on him, I did not manage to hush his voice in my mind.
And I am happy and grateful for that.