STRING 03: Letting go, moving on, and being plain dumb

Seeing him again had made me realize how matters were going for my loving self. I never really cared him more than I do as a friend. I’ve come to my senses and everything seemed to fit in their proper places in the puzzle. I also realized how I’ve been pathetically stupid back then, clinging to memories, wallowing in nostalgia, griping how hard it was for me – having breached that thin line between love and friendship.

Individually, things now are going well for me and for him, though not that much for he hasn’t moved on with his high school love, it seems. As for the two of us as a unit, we’re happy together and as long as there’s that flimsy thread connecting our thoughts, we’ll always have each other. Cheesy, but it’s true.

I still am sad. But he’s out of it, and definitely being loveless is out of it. Most of my sadness is comprised of my expectations, disappointments, and frustrations in aspects of self-satisfaction. The Marionette is amid a thread-like bridge of hope; critical, precarious, vague future (am thanking Seth again, for this one, though I know I could come up with the translation by myself).

Schooling resumes in a few days. Hopefully, the writing-nerve comes back by that time after a week-long trip six feet under the stars*. In the meantime, I’ve got to ingest more books, more words, more knowledge. Someone’s arsenal must take charge.

*apologies to All Time Low