I don’t think I ever had many friends. Always shy and not very motivated to meet new people, even in the simpler times of childhood. But some always stuck around, for reasons that I still do not know. But they remained when all else changed, and these people I could call friends. I’m happy that I could and still can call them friends. Even if we must part.
I’m… sad. Sadder than I believed I would be, but not as sad as I expected to be. it is a numb sadness made out of resignation, guilt and understanding that touches my soul, one suppressed by the belief that I don’t have the right to be sad. And then I’m left with nothing, only the memories. The good, the bad. The mistakes. The successes. A journey that I can’t tell if it shouldn’t have happened as it did, or if it will turn out to worth it.
All that I can muster now, after all the dust settled down, is a wish: “I hope they live a happy life”. I owe them much… too much to do anything but watch as we both turn the page and being a new chapter.
A toast for you, dear friend.