Celebration has always been your thing. You’ve always wanted to make every moment special, but I never understood it the way you did. As I grew older, I could comprehend your joy in celebrating, yet I still resisted it. I held you back from celebrating things I deemed unimportant, unable to see the meaning they held for you.
You loved birthdays, events, and New Year’s, simply because they gave you a chance to create memories. But I was different. I lived in the harsh reality of this life, a life that often felt too sad to celebrate. I knew what happened when you did something special for someone—it created expectations, attachments, and a longing that I didn’t want to feed. So, I stopped you. I kept telling you those celebrations weren’t necessary.
The irony? I had no problem doing things for others, making them feel special. But when it came to you—or even myself—I couldn’t. I never liked celebrating. I never gifted you the things you truly wanted. I controlled how much of me you could have, while I took control of everything in your life.
And now, I regret it.
What if we had celebrated? What if we had made those memories? Would it have made our separation even harder? Maybe then, we wouldn’t be here—me drowning in regret, and you, moving forward without looking back. No, not you. Me. I am the one who is struggling, the one who never made you feel special.
I was once the person you always wanted. Now, you are the one I can only look toward from a distance. I led you into habits, choices, and moments that suited me, and now, here I am, trying to undo my own mistakes—for the world, for myself.
You are happy now. I can feel it. And maybe that’s the hardest part. Because when someone is in pain over losing something, it simply means the other has found something better.
And that’s life. Some stay, some go.
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