Remember this one, or even this one?

I wrote those entries four years ago¹. Amazing how much they apply to the sit­u­a­tion I’m in now. Except this time, I’m stronger because I know that I sur­vived this once already. It’s sad that at the end, all my efforts turned into an attempt at mak­ing sure I would­n’t regret any­thing by giv­ing more of myself than I should have. Because when all that you’ve giv­en makes no dif­fer­ence, and you have noth­ing left, you know for sure that there’s noth­ing else you can do. You can always say that you took the chance, and it does­n’t mat­ter if you get hurt in the end, because often you can’t sep­a­rate the two.

That’s the price you pay to look back with­out any regrets. That’s the price of mov­ing on.

And I always pay it glad­ly.

1. It’s quite a trip to see that I was mature or smart enough to fig­ure this out back then. [↩]