I usually don’t like to talk about regret, and more often than not it’s mostly challenges I’d rather forget.
And yet, here I am.
Did you know there’s something wrong when you… when your whole support system is threaded with several lies?
Rather, a lie that defies the true definition of a concept, an idea.
And it soon becomes the very lie that you don’t want to believe.
Still, it continues to grow, inserting itself into every aspect of your thought process, until it is nothing more than the truth.
Above all else, there is one lie that I tell myself over and over again.
I tell it to my family, to my friends.
And I keep it hidden deep within the happiness I have drawn for myself.
So, she is the secret that I don’t like to keep.
She is the truth about my history that I don’t want to talk about.
And honestly, through all of the years of my life, it pains me to believe that she may be alone for the remainder of days.
And fuck, I sound like the cruelest of them all for being so pessimistic about her…
When she’s only been strong and supportive.
So concentrated on wanting to help others, have I failed to help her?
And when I say “compassion,” what do I really mean by that?
In fact, I am the worst.
And for realizing this now, I am not proud.