Changed

From the outskirts of the town // Where of old the mile-stone stood,

Now a stranger, looking down // I behold the shadowy crown // Of the dark and haunted wood.

Is it changed, or am I changed? // Ah! the oaks are fresh and green,

But the friends with whom I ranged // Through their thickets are estranged // By the years that intervene.

Bright as ever flows the sea, // Bright as ever shines the sun,

But alas! they seem to me // Not the sun that used to be, // Not the tides that used to run.

wrong decisions, dreadful outcomes and vague intentions

If only I could tell you that you're making the wrong decision because you're motivated by the wrong reasons, I would. But I won't. So I'm keeping my mouth shut until you realize it all by yourself. Or maybe I'm just too protective and I think that I know you all too well, which is why I'm being pessimistic about things. So scratch everything that I said. You go do what you think is best, and I'll stand here on one corner cheering you on because you said this will make you happy. And when all else fails, I'll try my very best to stop myself from saying I told you so. And when everything falls right into place and you achieve your success, I'll be waiting for your I told you so.


I wish to become your friend once again, but I am too cautious of how things would turn out. Is it too conceited of me to think that history will be repeating itself if I get too close? Your friendship with me was valuable back then even if I tried to deny it, and I wish for that to be rekindled. However, I fear that if I try to do anything, it might lead us back to where we have once been. A place where you demanded more and I couldn't give anything in return because I have drawn the line. When you didn't get what you wanted, you left without much of a goodbye. How did I react to all of that before? I shrugged it off like it didn't matter. How selfish is that? How conceited? And why does it matter now? Why am I filled with guilt when they tell me time and again that I was the reason why you left? After many nights of pondering, I know now. It's because I have finally banged my head against the wall and realized how selfish I was, immature, naive or simply a bitch for lack of a better word. If I could turn back time, I would. But I can't. And even if I could, it's better if I don't for I truly learned the lessons the hard way.


You're rather... weird. I couldn't read you too well. I wish I could because you're like a puzzle to me and it leaves me confused and frustrated. I could be an annoying know-it-all wanting reasons for every action when I am bothered by inconsistencies, gray areas and the obscurity of your intentions.