What’s gone is gone. No matter how hard I try to change this fact, it’s gone. It’s not an easy thing to accept this and let it go. Some things are gone and one can do nothing about them.
Gone are years of youth and innocence. The last few years have been brutal, personally, professionally, socially, economically and politically. They have been brutal and they have made changes in me, changes that were inevitable and are irreversible. I’m glad they’re with me, I’m glad because I’m a better man. But some things that happened, some things that made those changes – I’d rather not have experienced them. But I had, and they made other things gone.
Gone is the world I remember as safe and interesting. Gone are travels and adventures. When the world is burning and people are dying there’s nothing I can do to forget about them and enjoy the flight and the foreign country as I used to.
Gone is my faith in politicians and authorities, gone is my faith in those who promise they are able to save the world. Gone are people I used to know and I used to love. They’re just a faint shadow in my memory. Gone are the women I thought I loved and gone are friends I believed I knew.
Maybe it’s the end of the year, maybe it’s my birthday that are coming, maybe it’s because I’m tired and I’m hopeless, maybe it’s just life. I can see a lot of things and a lot of folks who are gone, and not so much that are yet to be. That’s nothing I can’t bear, that’s just a sad realization of the fact that everything has changed and I have changed and there are some things I like about myself more than before and there are some things I like about the world less than before. And there’s also brutal awareness that I can do nothing about it.
Gone is the music I loved and gone are the books I used to read. Sure, they’re still here but they’re old and nobody is able to create such beauty anymore. Maybe I don’t know how to find it, maybe something has changed and all that’s left is the old album made of long death rockers from the sixties. Maybe.
Gone are the ways I used to communicate, gone are the communities I used to be a part of. Gone are long posts written in the night and gone are friends who I never bother to ask for a phone number. Gone are blogs and gone are forums, and there’s nothing like the resurrection of blogs, there’s a bubble that believe they can resurrect them. No, my friends, the majority don’t care and won’t care.
We are just relics of the past living the old dream.
I’m fine with that.
Because what’s gone is gone.
Gone is my need to try to fight with everything and to convince everyone they should follow my way. Gone is my stupid stubbornness to convert those who don’t want to. And gone is my regret I couldn’t have saved them.
Gone is my haste and gone is my naivety, gone is my blind trust in people who made promises they couldn’t keep.
Gone are people who used to use me, who were there only because they wanted something from me and gone are my insecurities that made that possible. Gone are the relationships that hurt me, and gone are the friends who didn’t want to make an effort.
Maybe that’s the price I had to pay to be a little wiser, to be a little more responsible, to be a little more tender and to be a little more loving.
Maybe that’s the price I had to pay for giving up my stupid belief that the world was made for me and everyone should look after themselves. Maybe.
What’s gone is gone and that’s the natural thing in this world.
Some things had to go, some things are yet to go, some things are here to stay. Some things are yet to come.
The circle of life.