i spent too many hours of my life thinking about the past, deliberately hurting myself by probing into every nook and cranny of it, deriving some sort of perverse pleasure by exploring every possibility, every what if, every if only, every ask me to forgive, grant me that release, waiting, almost begging for closure and being denied over and over again, only to realize, that closure is a gift only i can give myself.

the strings lie before me. i clear the tangles, straighten out the ends of it. it curls every now and then. i guess i can live with that.

i tie a firm but simple knot.