When I stop pesting around, I come to think that maybe this is me who has changed, and maybe so much that there is no more common point between the one I was a year ago. Maybe not entirely, but some things that makes me , in a way, more certain about myself, thus less in search of certainties around other people's.
Not that I say that I do not need people anymore, far from it. But I am maybe less inclined to be in phase with their stories, since now I have my own to fill in, since now I must be there and take decision, and live life, the real one that hurts.
I had an argument today with the person that have been my mentor from September 2004 to December 2004. Somehow I knew that such a clash would occur, the only thing uncertain was the reason why.
I know, now that I thought about it for the past few hours, that the reason why I cannot comment anymore about his works, aside from the mere linguistic one, is because I am less enclined to unveil myself. No lack of interest involved, simply, a shift, a slow drift, and I think that this time, it is irreversible.
If I have to search excuses, I won't find any, nor will I apologize. I broke myself the faint link, and somehow it is better I think. Turning a page that was meant to never be, and certainly not tie this person with foolish anger or explanations. As for my pride, I know it will forget about it soon enough.
Sometimes growing up means breaking up, but it is okay, as long as I don't make anyone suffer from it. And on the latter, I have serious doubts still,...
I leave things be, and stop at chapter 13, of a story I will never know the end of.
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