caminante haciendo camino
echoes of the past
2004-04-12 | 9:17 p.m.

Iíve known for years. Somewhere buried beneath the immediacy of today and plans for tomorrow, I knew it. I didnít want it to be true. I hoped since I hadnít had to deal with it, that it really wasnít. Maybe I had been wrong. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe everyone had been wrong. Maybe, if I ignored it, it would go away. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

I hadnít been wrong. I had known the truth, but I had chosen not to acknowledge it. Today, I was forced to confront what I had secreted in the recesses of my mind. Today I had to face the truth, and with it the past. I thought I was done with it, done with him. But today the echoes of the past rang loudly and undeniably in my present.

It made me sad. Sad that I would always carry this around with me. Like a small stain on my soul that I would always know existed. It made me angry. Angry at him. But, most of all, angry with myself. I donít know how I so misjudged the situation, the person, the repercussions. I guess the answer to ďhowĒ is love. I fell in love, and fell out of sound judgment.

But none of that really matters now. What is, simply is. Iíll deal with it. It wonít change me; it wonít make me less, not even in my own mind. I wonít let it. Nor will I wallow in regrets. I wonít regret falling in love. If I let myself regret the love, I risk never opening myself to it again. I do wish I would have been smarter about it. But I canít change that either.

No regrets. All will be well. No regrets. All will be well.

Iíll just keep telling myself that until I believe it.



Listening To: the thoughts racing in my head
Reading: nothing
Feeling: sad and angry

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