I do not feel guilty. Not for anything.
I feel pitty. I feel sympathy. I feel sorry for him.
But I feel no guilt for leaving him, for leaving home.
I weighed the decision and analyzed the situation objectively.
I made a choice with my best interest in mind.
I followed my heart, and it didn't find me with him.
Maybe this makes me a cold, insensitive bastard.
If that's the case, then I suppose I have nothing to say for myself.
But regardless, I do not regret it, and I stand by my choice.
I will be happy, whether he is or not. There was a time when that would have been impossible.
But he doesn't affect me anymore.
This is just becoming drama. And I don't want it.
But I do miss having someone, if only to hold hands with. And I wish I could find somebody out here.
About Me
- Kyle
- There are poets and thinkers and dreamers. They are everywhere. Distributed like heavenly sprinkles, they cling to the places where the frosting hasn't hardened from age and exposure. But some sprinkles get trapped in the crevices created by the knife or the spatula or the pre-pubescent finger that has so adorned the earth with this miracle frosting. Those sprinkles tend to fall off. When you tip the cupcake to your lips, before you can even taste them--before their potential can be realized at all--they are cast to the floor of the bakery. The classroom. The kitchen. The mini-mart… These are the sprinkles that get swept away and vacuumed up and sent someplace else. The journey ahead of them is long and arduous, but they must find their way back to the surface of things. Back to the sticky-sweetness of reality--the substance of waking life…. I am such a sprinkle. And I’ve accepted that.