Sometimes you're not mad at people, but the anger is still there, and it is only later that you realise that it is really sorrow, of the deep and inevitable kind, which can find no cause in a person's faults, but only in those of time, that is making you feel angry. So actually, you're not mad at anyone or anything, you're just in pain and that pain will make it's presence felt, one way or another. The sooner you accept it's presence, the faster will you be able to get it to leave. And in that leaving, you'll leave behind also a little bit of yourself, changing who you were for who you'll become.
Who you want to become, is therefore, the most important question to consider at such times. Because if you're going to become better, you're going to have to let go.
Let it go.
Let them go.
Live for yourself. And let the pain heal you. For it is the only thing that can. The only thing that will.
And try not to fall prey to that which has claimed many a heart and soul over time. Try not to delve into hindsight.
Because what you know now, you didn't then. And if you hadn't done what you did back then, you wouldn't know what you do now.
Here's a short poem (taken out from a longer poem I wrote, but the longer one is about a particular kind of thing in life and the shorter one just so much more versatile that I left the remaining paragraphs out. Sometimes, you've got to leave some things out so that what you're left with is worth being left with.):
Of wanting to take off a pair of non existent glasses.
I wear glasses
And my vision is bad
And yet the only thing I do
Is wish that I had
Poor hindsight, as well.
So I couldn't go back and recollect
Every excruciating detail.
I wish I had poor hindsight.
Short hind-sightedness.
So that the farther things got
In the past
The more blurred they'd become
Instead of coming back
With such selective clarity
That I have forgotten how the roses smelt
But I remember how the thorns felt
And feel, I can, even today
Because my hindsight
Is 6/6.
Chashmish, you'd once called me.
I wish.
Because then not seeing the past,
Not remembering,
Would've been as easy
As taking off my glasses.
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