I’m not experiencing nostalgia. Not in an overwhelming or unhealthy amount. I accept the past for what it was, and I’m living in the present. I don’t feel held back by anything or anyone. I’m looking forward and I’m excited for what the future brings.
I’m not sure if I was dreaming.. but I know I said this a long time ago, and I hope it’s still not affecting you.. but if I wasn’t dreaming, it definitely is.
I said you’d live a nice long life and some boring death of long life, and I’d probably die of suicide.
I was in a bad place when I said that, but I sincerely meant it. You just had this beautiful life and all this potential and I was envious and happy for your future.
And now I’m better, content, and happy.
And I hate seeing you where you are and not being able to be there for you, even though I contributed a lot of stress. I wish you could see all of the beautiful and wonderful things you have to offer. I want you to love yourself as much as everyone around you does.
I know I fucked up, and I know it’s going to be a while.
“Romance takes place in the middle distance. Romance is looking in at yourself through a window clouded with dew. Romance means leaving things out: where life grunts and shuffles, romance only sighs.”—Margaret Atwood (via thewildernessunderground)