It's so odd, as I walk around every place that meant everything, that one day, it'll stop mattering so much.
You'll stop mattering so much.
I'll come back here, to celebrate my tenth year of leaving this godforsaken land, and I'll look at that basketball court and the tree and the bench where everything began and everything ended and it just...won't mean anything. And I'll go live in the Training Centre, if it's still standing then, and trample over those stairs where you first asked me out, where we shared our "chaste" first kiss, and I won't even remember what was in the letter you wrote me.
And there will have been so many people and heartbreaks and experiences that this, what used to be the centre of my life, will be nothing but the distant remnant of a memory. And I'll think of all of these things associated with you and us, and my heart won't re-break every time I do. And it just won't matter anymore, and it's so odd when I think about everything we said and felt and did, that I'll ever let go to that extent, or that you will.
Or that you have.
Or that people do, every day, at every place, every moment.
And I wish people were black and white.
And I wish we didn't have to let go.
And I wish the world was as it should be.
And I wish I wasn't quite so emo.
But I suppose they aren't, and we do, and it isn't, and I am, so...so this is goodbye. This is me being finally, finally ready to accept, after a lifetime of reluctant farewells and focused efforts to keep in touch, that sometimes, things must just...end, and that it is okay to let people go. That it isn't my job to care for everyone who crosses my path, to collect them in my coterie of strays and give them all my love. That I can care for me too. That I must. That sometimes, it's time for things to just be O-V-U-R, over. That for us, that time is now.
So goodbye, sweetheart. I loved you.
~Sam
You'll stop mattering so much.
I'll come back here, to celebrate my tenth year of leaving this godforsaken land, and I'll look at that basketball court and the tree and the bench where everything began and everything ended and it just...won't mean anything. And I'll go live in the Training Centre, if it's still standing then, and trample over those stairs where you first asked me out, where we shared our "chaste" first kiss, and I won't even remember what was in the letter you wrote me.
And there will have been so many people and heartbreaks and experiences that this, what used to be the centre of my life, will be nothing but the distant remnant of a memory. And I'll think of all of these things associated with you and us, and my heart won't re-break every time I do. And it just won't matter anymore, and it's so odd when I think about everything we said and felt and did, that I'll ever let go to that extent, or that you will.
Or that you have.
Or that people do, every day, at every place, every moment.
And I wish people were black and white.
And I wish we didn't have to let go.
And I wish the world was as it should be.
And I wish I wasn't quite so emo.
But I suppose they aren't, and we do, and it isn't, and I am, so...so this is goodbye. This is me being finally, finally ready to accept, after a lifetime of reluctant farewells and focused efforts to keep in touch, that sometimes, things must just...end, and that it is okay to let people go. That it isn't my job to care for everyone who crosses my path, to collect them in my coterie of strays and give them all my love. That I can care for me too. That I must. That sometimes, it's time for things to just be O-V-U-R, over. That for us, that time is now.
So goodbye, sweetheart. I loved you.
~Sam
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