No text no call no nothing.
Oh the usual suspects did, sooner or later, in one form or another, as I knew they would.
It was a strange affair. Not the worst, I know that, of course not the best but certainly surreal. Having to go in for a review was not desired. An unexpected visit and associated act of kindness was very nice and much appreciated.
Boredom quickly settled in. Some friends came to the rescue which salvaged most of the night.
Right at the very end though my thoughts turned south yet again. Will I not be free of this non-sense? Regardless, the feeling was very strong, and an idea formed to send a last minute text. The contents of this to be written text were also pretty much concluded, in my head.
I struggled. Should I? Maybe if I changed the content. Should I, really? What purpose would it serve other than perpetuating said non-sensicalness? Yet I wanted to.
Porque queria, queria falar contigo. Neste dia de dias. Apesar de recentemente não o querer fazer, mas isso era apenas a mágoa a ressurgir. Queria ouvir a tua voz. Ou pelo menos saber que estavas a pensar em mim. Eu sei que me mandaste a mensagem no dia errado há dias antes, mas não sabias ter descoberto o dia certo?
Yet, I did not. I resisted. Resisted the urge to go back and carry on acting down a futile path. I did nothing. Did I feel better? I felt resolve, certainly.
Almost 24 hours have passed. Do I think differently now? No, I do not. But how do I feel? I feel I did the right thing.
Yet, why am I writing about it?
Yet, why?... After all this time, events, words, circumstances, distance etc. Why?...
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