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Forgive me

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Rempits
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Part TWO: This Is Lara

Mama,

I texted him today with mixed feelings. I've always liked him for he's a dear friend, and reliable too. The thing is, he's married. So ok, he is a friend, JUST a friend, and his marriage shouldn't bother me, right?
Wrong.


He is married to my other friend, the one I had a crisis with. It was my mistake, I admit, but it wasn't only MY mistake. She had her share too. But I felt guilty, I really did that I cried, and I apologised to her. I doubt that she has ever forgiven me. That makes me feel unsettled, until this very moment. If i could turn back the time, to the night when I hurt her feelings that she was so saddened and surprised, and she trembled with disappointment as she stood upon my door, I would. So that I would not cross the line, ever. Let her hurt my feelings, let her make me sad or angry that my head bursts, I wont budge. I wont get provoked. But I did, once, and things turned out really, really bad. I couldn't erase things that had happened, so I must accept that what I did was wrong. Was so wrong that no matter what I said was the reason behind my doing, it was still wrong.


Sometimes I feel that apart of my huge guiltiness towards her, it's not as haunting as my guiltiness towards him. Although he never said a word about the crisis I had with her, i know he knew. I wasn't so sure whether he took sides, but I could feel that he was quite distant after the crisis. He should be, she was his forever-girlfriend anyway.


Now back to what I really wanted to say. I'm suffocated with the urge to maintain my beautiful relationship with him, and with her too, yet at the same time too disturbed with this guilty feelings within me. I'm not sure whether he would read this letter, but if he did, mama, he would know this is about him. And about her, his wife. I'm really, really, truly, sorry for the mistakes I made, and I hope you two could forgive me.


I long for a friendship between us three, I really do, and since I was the one who ruined it, I apologise. But i guess it won't really matter come tomorrow, for I know three is always a crowd and blood is already pouring out from my wrist, mama. Its unstoppable.

Love,

Anna.

Previous short story:
Rempits
Next short story:
Part TWO: This Is Lara
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