Love and let go. Don’t stop loving, even if you love another, later, somehow.
I have burnt all bridges and it is my making. The intent was else – but those who would have walked back to me, cannot anymore.
My wealth is is in the ashes of these bridges.
There are time when you want to reach out – just to say hello – to ask – how you are doing.
But there’s a heavy curtain of the past.
And your being shuffles and struggles in the folds of the curtain.
But my intent has not changed.
Now, I’d like to stop, and go away. I’ll not talk till I feel like talking.
Now, I’d like to talk. Talk to me. I am talking to you, aren’t I? Why aren’t you talking to me? But don’t talk to me about this and that. I prefer that and this.
Now, I’d like to stop. I am not talking.
Stop making the rules, I said. Either you talk, or you don’t. You aren’t the only one in the relationship. There’s one more person. For a very weird reason, I thought of the East India Company.
I have drowned enough on this long road. The curves, the blind-turns, the slopes, the accidents; I have survived them all. Mountains in the rear-view. Their smile a thumbs-up. Fare well. There is an unpleasant comfort in the rear-view. Known.
It’s the plains now. The road ends, soon. Just a few moments, and I’ll be renewed. A change of clothes, life, fears, friends, emotions, pain, shoes, perspective, future, and a new set of tyres.
But, I won’t turn back.
The problem with fathers is that they die. They shouldn’t. Thankfully, I’ll never cause that problem when I die.
Life shouldn’t be so angry with us. We should not be too (angry with life, i.e.). After we have made a big deal of all the things in our life, we should look at our life.
It will be fun.
Broken bangles in a pentagonal, or hexagonal if you prefer, tube.
We will make our meaning of what we say and chest-thump it for a while, because we are too busy to make sense of history.