2025-01-02: echoes

for the last year i've been sitting with my guilt. decades ago i split up with someone, ghosted when it became clear they didn't want me in their life anymore. at the time, we had a friend of sorts in common: a much older man, closer to our fathers' age, who in his mind was good, and in ours at the time, too. years later i learned new information about him, from others, that rewrote that narrative. just to say that early last year, he died, and keeping with my promise to never initiate contact with my ex again, i didn't attempt to make any sort of contact about this.

right or wrong, it's something i've felt guilty about, on and off, for the past year. last night before bed i wrote a short poem about them — something, like contact, i said i'd never do.

only one promise broken. no place in my life but this. no place in my life after this.

journal