A letter to a friend...
Sometimes, it's easy to think back to old times. To plans that should have, could have been made.
Its strange that, one small action can set off a domino of events all leading to that one moment. A consequence of not knowing.
Its hard to mourn these decisions. When in fact it was not known what would even occur as a result of them. For a person cannot see the future. They may be able to predict it, yes, but to truly openly see it...
Well that is impossible.
One thing, that is possible is truly regret.
Why regret?
Why is it that the future cannot be seen but regret can? How can I know that I will regret something before it has even occurred.
How did I know that leaving would soon become the most painful thing I could have ever done.
I was the one who gave you the knowledge of them. They who used you and took you for how they saw fit. When you were simply only one boy.
One boy trapped in the hands of seven others who pretended to care about you.
While I believe the future cannot be seen, obsession can. Was it that I was not obsessed with you enough that I didn't see it myself?
Why did I so freely let you go when I knew I would regret it?
When I saw you, surrounded by them, in that garden of red red roses.
How did I not come to think, I would regret this?
I would regret allowing you to know them. I would regret exposing you to the villains I knew I saw. You were so niave and I did not warn you.
I knew you, but I left just when you needed me.
And although, I feel in some ways I cant blame myself for this. Because how can I have seen the future to be as it was.
I still feel responsible.
In that now when you were once a dear friend, you are now another stranger I pass on the street.
Another mystery I am not allowed to solve.
I left you so early that it would be cruel of me to even come back.
But I saw you.
I saw you run to them. As I hid in the shadows tending to what I thought was a garden of beautiful red roses.
I saw you run for help as you were being hunted.
I had already seen them gather before you even arrived. I had questioned why they were there to begin with, of course. But I didn't think that what transpired would have happened in a million years.
But.
I still stood, and did nothing.
Despite this being the first time I'd seen you in a year, I felt like we were strangers.
I had moved away, while you were still in the same place.
It has taken me a year to even acknowledge this in fact.
Because I am still running. I left you there and I still refuse to return.
How can I be so awful to you?
Back then, when it happened. Most had predicted that i would become the villain. That my return would be to hurt you. And while i instead did nothing to you, it is my failure to do anything at all that is worse than any villainous deed.
It was me who suggested you be involved with them. If I had not, if I had helped you instead you wouldn't be still in that place.
How did I leave you, still a child, while I moved on to become an adult. Why I graduated without you.
I was not there and you paid the price for my own mistake.
I suppose you may wonder, why I am deciding to write now.
It is because I finally found the courage to face you. To return to you as I had been in the beginning. As I had been when I sat in the lunch hall and ate with you.
I wanted to return to those days.
So I returned to that garden.
First I walked through the gate at the bottom of the hill. I entered the old gardners shed where you once stood. I walked up that path of blossom trees you once ran through.
I was always behind you.
I reached the peak of the hill. Where nothing waited for me now, except for you of course.
I knelt down and felt you with the palm of my hand. You who now are immortalised in the soil I once cared for.
That now instead of being behind you in the shadows, I have moved ahead.
If I could have seen this future, I would never have let you know them.
For most of us, we knew roses to be a symbol of love, of comfort. For you, the only thing these roses mark is grief.
I'm sorry I couldn't save you that day.
I'm sorry I had not cultivated more of an obsession of you. If I had, maybe I could have been there for you. Instead I was selfish and pursued my own heaven knowing the hell I had condemned you to.
I hope, old friend, one day you will come to forgive me.
For some of us, who have moved on from your story and may never read this, i hope they can be content in what of you they remember. That you had your freedom, your chance.
Along with this letter, I place apon you a single daffodil.
I hope with this, you can finally be lifted of that suffocating weight off your chest. I hope you can let go, and be reborn as something not tied down by the prickles of thorns.
Now, in your eternal life, I pray you find peace.
Yours,
Haru
