The Years

People grow apart.

I know we did.

I don’t know what happened.

Or perhaps I do.

My inbox is full from emails of the past, for we used to write to each other all the time. I read them yesterday, and smiled at our naiveté, at our idealism, at our strong words to each other, yours written in a way that is so uniquely you.

And so the years widened the chasm.

And the choice I made presented you with the other, the resolution you made that I do not speak of to anyone.

Yet, the years were kind to me and the other.

We found similarities that I had never realised before, and it seemed that the age gap slowly closed between us, and I found myself missing and appreciating you in a way that I hadn’t had the opportunity to do so before, perhaps because I had been away when you were discovering yourself and coming of age.

I wish the three of us would come together again.

It is my wish for this year, that in the short span we may meet, I will somehow find that strength in ourselves and each other that will overcome the different paths we have taken, and that time really does make that difference.

I need to carry my secrets, the way I always have. The way I have always chosen to shield myself from the ones I love most. It is my way, and whether you agree or disagree with that, I cannot help the choices that are so inherently my own.

I know I made my mistakes.

For that I’m sorry.

But I will always love you. The both of you.

I ask for forgiveness.

That is all.