He had already thought of everything and the result always ended in the same thing, a desolation little understood. However, what he was sure of was the improbability of erasing all traces of that trauma. The only thing left to do was to live with it. And then everything became more complicated because then came the indecision of wanting to live like that. Would it be worth it? Would it have a goal? Would it be the right one?
It was too late to continue talking. People didn't understand and a few others gave the same generic answers. That was the way people were, they rarely knew what to say and resorted to common, socially acceptable answers. It didn't help at all, not even to feel meaningless.
Although the pain was no longer so intense, it was still heavy. It weighed to continue to feel inadequate, little, not enough value. The tears tasted the same, they no longer surprised or aroused much more than habit. Perhaps that was the way this life would be.
He could not erase all those painful scenes of his life and his past, all that was left was to accept it, to embrace the little memories and what he left in his wake. Maybe someday new scenes would appear and make it more understandable.
Maybe someday he would look for the first time....
