Love Plume by Olly Molly Golly Les.
Anxiety springs from my lack of endurance to keep on trying to relate to something I have deliberately alienated myself from some years ago – hypocrisy. It is at most discomforting. One does not throw away twenty years of familiarity out of the window, especially that remembering is such a comforting human privilege.
Ex-lovers, I’ve understood early on, but I find myself still wondering why and how good friends become complete strangers. However, of late, I seem to have reached a stage wherein I find it painfully rustic to endure an affair with stubborn familiarity. Self-inflicted teenage wounds maturing into adult monsters growing by the day without recognition, blamed on others at worse, thanks but we are not getting any younger and I have better things to do with my time.
We’ve been told time and again that letting go is liberating and I concur. To do as I choose without stepping on someone else’s toes is what I am talking about here. I might be forever bound to my nostalgic sentiments but the consequences I’ve thought long and hard enough that I’m ready to face the future without you. The taste of freedom more than makes up for the grief. More importantly, I am not the one (to have had suffered and) to apologize for your lack of consideration.
Understand that to be held back by others is my and my expense alone, that I choose to confront my life – good and bad, a life I made you a part of a long time ago. Abandonment it is not for I remain open with all my heart and soul. I may not be there but I am always to be found.
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