Why did I ever like you to begin with?
I thought time heals, not opens, old wounds.
Every now and then I find myself alone in thought. Earlier today I began wondering if I’ve really reached that age where I ask myself what was I thinking when I befriended the people I did in the distant past. There were those I wish I knew better and those whose names and faces I wish I could forget.
Time and circumstances do a funny thing: they can turn someone you once cherished into someone so despicable you can’t figure out what was ever appealing about him or her to begin with.
Time heals wounds for some but they somehow open wounds for me. I entrap myself with what had gone wrong and mistakenly letting that overshadow things that have gone well. I think, I think, and I think some more and it leads me to a place far from bliss.
Why torture myself like this? I don’t know, I wish I knew.