My mother used to tell me often "K ko saathi-saathi?!" "K ko jaile taile ko saathi-saathi"

Today, after having flown 500 miles to a city I've never been before, after taking a loan to arrange for tickets, after having laundered money I should've ideally used to pay my phone bill, and chose to fly all the way here, ignoring my deadlines and compromising my professional relationships, right at this moment, my mother's word ring in my ears.

Now I know she was right.

But

I will not feel sorry for myself, no. (Only assholes feel sorry for themselves)

I will not reduce my gesture that was borne out of immense love and fondness, and call it a foolish decision (as my mind is trying to convince me)

I'm glad I made this trip. It's been... pivotal.

For starters I realised that I was living in a state of nostalgia. I so desperately am trying to hold on to something, something that has... Died... Maybe a while ago.

Here I was, determined, that I want to salvage the friendship.

Because there was a time, a long time ago, where you taught me love myself. And for that I'm grateful. Indebted.

But today, I know, that we can't even continue to be FRIENDS.

This changes everything.
I will never be able to look you in the eyes, I will never look at your face. And I cannot physically bring myself to talk to you. There's always a lump in my throat.

Things will never ever go back to how they were before. I will never get that feeling again. People outgrow each other and that's perfectly okay.

I wish you all the happiness in the world (I have never wanted anything else for you) and all the best for your new life.

"If we meet again, why we shall smile.
Else, tis a parting well made."

Sorry. Not sorry.