peskar a response letter
This is not a love letter, absolutely, or an essay or anything. Itâs simply a response, I guess. Not that iâm obligated to respond or have something to say or have to reveal a secret, but i think it might be rude to not say anything back, like at least as simple as âokayâ or âwhateverâ. Anyways. I was struggling to decide if i should write something, because âchattingâ and âtalkingâ wouldnât work, and i havent been in the mood to say anything, so yeah, this had to be hard.
I am not an open book. Not at all at the moment, or at least not anymore. It has been months since not being one. Thatâs what i know. Why? Ask yourself. I declare that not wishing you a happy birthday earlier was a stupidity, remembering how much it impacted you. I wasnât gonna tell you what happened right there tho. Stupid things happen for a reason as well, i guess.
When you openned your heart, it got crushed. And i said sorry for breaking it. And you said no that it was the risk you had to take when it returned scattered into bits. And what? Now im agree with it. I donât have to argue if it was my fault. That it was your responsibility. And so was mine. Not that you had broken mine or stuff. You just changed me, those months changed me. I dont know whether it was good or bad. But iâm not that 14-16 year old who used to be miserable yet still kind, loving, and understanding. Iâm not the same person anymore that you had loved for years. I couldnât help. I didnât give enough âdamnâ to everything, everyone, including you. And i got pissed off everytime you came and then just disappeared. It made me wanna throw away the phone or break the computer screen. Not because i was mad at you. I wanted to feel sad but i couldnât. So may be thats how it happened for that case.
I was pissed off. Yes of course, i had the right to be so. You also had your right to do what you did, in whatever reason. We all ended up doing well tho, we both got our prayers answered. But i couldnât help to say bad things while reading that tumblr post. âStop trying to be a hero,â that was your sentence. While reading it, the procces of saving âusâ, my mind popped and was like are you trying to be a saint? And â when you said that your decision to make me hate you was stupid â couldnât help but thinking, ârealized that huh?â I clapped, stating an appreciation.
Our roles had been reversed? By reversed you mean youâre the one whoâs being crybaby? I mean, you were lucky youâd got someone, that cheesy supportive girl right there, few years ago, when you were at my age. Your senior year. âIt was your good days 3 years agoâ. mine was not the worst day though, âjust not the bestâ. And i could possitively tell you that youre not the most hated people on earth because i have many names on the list of 'People I Hateâ and i can make sure that youâre not on the first line. Not because Iâm always the kinder one, Iâm not even kind? just because there are many names. I canât say that Iâd forgiven you but the next day Iâm still mad about this. Iâm sometimes mad, other times i let it go. Iâm just used to hold grudge. there are things that slip away too fast, before i even had a plan. So itâs an opposition, being hateful and letting go at the same time, holding grudge but accepting at the same time, feeling abundantly kinky most of the time.
And they told me, i quote,
She is older than you, sheâs been in your position. i mean you gotta face the final exam. like seriously why didnât she clear things up sooner. she didnât do anything to fix things, why wait so long to do this to you. well, yeah at least she doesnât do it later when youâre supposed to be focused on exams and get supported and everything you need. i wanna be mad at her because sheâs so selfish imo. but yeah who am i to judge lmao. also my opinion could be wrong since i only see things from the outside. sorry, no offense. âđ˝ď¸
I was like, âChill im not even madâ.
Your essay answered some of my thoughts. Prabably 10%. And i dont think i have to fulfill the 90%. You said i could just come and ask if i still had questions. I do but iâm not obligated to know it all. So i let go of it. And lately I let go of stuffs easily, not feeling resposible for them, having âlike i careâ kind of attitude. I might have to change it anytime soon? Something told me that iâm gonna regret it sooner or later but my humane brain said i dont regret even though i get disappointed. Good point but still incoherent.
If i were an open book, i could tell you many things from what made me not wishing you a happy birthday last year to how the break up affects me, from what i thought of you since those past months until today to what happened to my hand and legs, or from as simple as what i did in a day to as complicated as my biggest concern in life. Yet i am not one.
I keep them to myself.
No longer yours,
L
