I don't regret this.

I don’t regret any of it. I look back and ask myself if I’d be satisfied if I could take it all back. All the pain, struggle, humiliation, foolishness, but I still wouldn’t be satisfied. So I wouldn’t take it back. Try to understand me when I say I’m not looking for something to live for. I’m more content than most people in the world. Not because I’m satisfied, but because I accept the-not-so-pretty aspects of my life. I know that anything that happens, is meant to happen. Anything that happens, is good. And all the pain, was unavoidable. So no, my dear, I don’t regret this. But no, my dear, I don’t miss you either.

These are the words I haven’t been able to write.