Closure

It’s funny how one little thing can send your mind somewhere it hasn’t been in years. Somewhere it didn’t want to be. So, as I am unable to turn my brain off, unable to shift focus, and unsure as to how to handle the situation, I’m going to write about it.

Some people say that they prefer to live without regrets because what they’ve done has made them who they are. I hate that. I believe that’s a sign of someone being so overwhelmed with guilt and remorse that they can’t deal with it. Or they don’t acknowledge that mistakes affect people besides themselves, and are just that cold and self-absorbed not to care, or even realize. If anyone took offense to that, please hear me out.

I do not believe the wrong turns I took along the way are what lead me here. I was already here. The path I am on now is the path that I started on. The strait/straight and narrow, the iron rod, the yellow brick road, whatever you want to call it - the path of love and happiness doesn’t move. Only you move. Those missteps were nothing more than a waste of my time. The longest possible route to get where I wanted to be. And getting back here was the hardest stretch of it all.

Maybe your path is different from mine. Perhaps your destination is different depending on your definition of happiness. I don’t know, nor is it for me to decide what is better for you. But I believe you know whether or not the path you walk is the one that will ultimately lead you where you want to be.

There are people and things in my life that have shaped me into a better person, but there are also others that have not. Any good or admirable quality I have because of those things stem from regret, fear, and defiance. They didn’t teach me anything. They only reinforced what I already knew: Don’t leave the path!

So, now that I’m here, I find it difficult to look back. For me, Memory Lane is a dark, dilapidated, dead end, ghetto street. Filled with busted cars parked on tar-patched streets next to cracked sidewalks. Lined with filthy chain-link fences with garbage stuck to it, and as the wind blows, the trash reaches out from the links it’s pinched in, like it’s trying to get away. But if it got away, then the place where it ended up would be filthy.

That’s the way trash works. No matter where you are, if you allow the trash to be there, then the place you are becomes a dirty place. That’s why I don’t want any elements from my past life to be a part of my current one.

(At this point, I should let my family know that I am not talking about them. I pushed them away and they were not a part of my life during the times I’m talking about. I’m writing to my old “friends.” Specifically the friend of mine who was also friends with the person I happened to run into the other day, and got me thinking about these things.)

There was a time when I called each of you friends, but looking back, I’m not so sure you were. And I’m convinced more than ever that today we would not be friends. Sometimes I wonder if we had stayed friends if you would be where I am. But then I am thankful that I did not end up where you are.

I’m not necessarily saying that I regret our friendship. But I am saying that you cannot be a part of my new life. Even those of you that may have been good for me then, you carry bad memories for me now.

The people I am writing to will probably never read this, and therefore, I know we will never have the closure I wish we could have. But I refuse to contact you. I hate the amount of attention I have given you in this post. And I really hate the amount of attention my mind has given you in these last few days.

I don’t think about you. It seems funny to say, and I hate it when people write poems and songs about how they don’t think about someone, yet they have taken the time, energy, and thought to write about them. But in this small moment that I am thinking about you, I want to let you know that I don’t think about you. And I don’t want to think about you ever again.

I have a song for nearly everyone in my life. So, I would like to dedicate these songs to the people that made me write this. (I have put these songs on the music playlist below. If you would like to listen to them, hit the play button. But you'll want to pause the music on the right first.)

Fort Minor - “Slip Out The Back” is to my former best friend. If great minds really do think alike, you’ll understand it.

Britney Spears - “Out From Under” goes out to all of the females that I was once fond of. I tried to find something better, but sadly, you cannot always choose who sings good songs.

Hoobastank - “Remember Me” is for everyone else. Namely the person I ran into.

I didn’t get the chance to say it then, so I’ll say it now: Goodbye.