Moving on to a New Life

Moving on to a New Life

A Story by The Watcher
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The end

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Moving on to a New Life

Sunday
July 8, 2018
8:15 PM EDT

Mom suggested for me to get back into poetry so here I am. Kinda surprised I still have my login info, but it hardly matters since I'm going to make a new account after posting this. I'll probably leave this account behind with some throwaway email and password instead of closing it altogether.

It's been a while since I was last here. Three and a half years to be exact (since my last poem went up anyways). Hard to believe how long ago that feels, and how much different I was back then. Why the hell did I write so many depressing things?

Because I was lonely.
Because I wasn't happy with my life.
Because I didn't have many friends.
Because girls didn't give me the attention I wanted, but obviously didn't deserve.
Because, because, because, because... the reasons never end.

I wrote sad things because I felt sad and needed an outlet. That's it. Honestly it's kind of embarrassing to go through this old stuff and realize that I was the one who wrote all of it.

It wasn't all sorrow though. Aside from writing poetry, this place was also where I met a few girls and made some good memories. Jessa, Brittany, Mickey, and Jennifer just to name a few I can remember. We all had difficult moments and eventually had to say goodbye, but overall I would say that all of you were wonderful friends. There's more I would like to say, but I believe the personal and intimate details are best left unspoken, even though nobody will read this and know who I was and who they were.

So what now? I'm moving on to a new life. I'm bringing this to a close and throwing these memories out into the sea of the internet. That way, I don't take them with me to the grave. Being forgotten through time is inevitable as we are mortal, but I leave this story as proof that I was once here. Nobody knows who George Washington is, who Shakespeare is, who Jesus is, who Hitler is, and so on. But we know of them because their stories were passed down through time and survived their deaths. That's kinda what I'm doing here, even though I think I'm too young (almost 25 years) to be thinking this way.

I am just a faceless soul in this wide world of possibilities. Faceless and indistinguishable from many others, but still a soul. Who knows how long this story will last? 100 years? Maybe 1000? Will it survive if WritersCafe.org goes down forever? Will it survive the end of the internet? I don't really know.

That being said... it's time for me to get this posted, put the key inside the box, close the locked box, and throw it out into the world. To any of my old friends who somehow find this someday, know that I was here and that I thank you for speaking to me.

In Life, With Love

© 2018 The Watcher


Author's Note

The Watcher
Leave a message to the other readers. I won't be around to see it unless I somehow rediscover this someday. Who knows, maybe I won't remember that I was the one who wrote it.

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Reviews

This means a lot. I value the friendship we once had. Thank you for always staying near to me even when I didn't deserve it. I will really miss your poetry! I hope you never let go of the gift you have been given. You are the very best poet I've ever met in real life and I will never forget you or time spent together. You will always be a dear friend in my heart.

Posted 2 Years Ago



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Added on July 9, 2018
Last Updated on July 9, 2018