There was never going to be an answer.
And maybe he should just accept that. Maybe he should just accept that was instead of constantly wondering what could have been. Maybe he should have just found a way to be happy instead of constantly searching for something more. Always letting his heart and his imagination run away with him.
There was a very clear list of all the things he should have done. And then there was the list of things he actually did. And never once had they matched. Never once had they even close.
There was never going to be an answer. Just like he was certain what he felt was never going to be returned.
So he hide it away, buried it so deep within his heart that even he forgot about it. Until that little cut began to grow, slowly transforming into a wound. And it would only be so long before the infection set in. Before it started to spread.
But he was the conductor of the train that was leading to his own ruin and misery. And he was too far gone to apply the brakes now. Too far gone down the rabbit hole to worry about how it might end.
Because it was going to end. Everything did.
