If only we could have talked earlier about everything. But I didn’t want to lose you and now I lost myself instead. I should not have open up, it was a mistake because I created hope where shouldn’t have been any only to tear it apart again. It was right, but too late. Way too late. Like a last few happy days, a few better days before an old man dies.
At least no one could say I didn’t leave a message, I left a whole Almanach. Maybe I survive this, but not if every little interaction with other people hurts me. I am feeling too much. I should have known. Feeling with an open belly where you can see the organs, is not a good idea. But I had no choice. It was either feel or die and now there is no difference anymore.
Why am I writing this… it is pointless. I know it all. Why should I write about it? Why should I communicate? It never changed a thing.
At least not for the better and it is no ones fault. There is no fault, no real reason anymore. Just this growing need for silence or peace or both. And the forest gave me all of it. Maybe this is why some people die in there.
I still have a choice, but one means pain forever and the other one means pain as well. I think I choose to live another day.
Sorry… it just came all out again.
And sorry for hurting you.
(How to destroy hope and dreams with some lines of text)