finding someone old

Just a moment ago, I thought about someone that I hurt – a couple. Their faces came into my mind out of nowhere, so I searched for them. And I found them.

I stared at each of their pictures – remembering what we spoke about, remembering details in their lives, remembering what I once told them. In one of their pictures, one of them is holding a little girl – I assume their daughter. The other picture is one of them smiling wide – she reminds me of my first psychologist in that way.

For a few years now, I had wondered if they adopted. They seem to have vanished after they found out that I wasn’t real. I wanted to apologize to them, but I didn’t have the chance. I wrote several letters, but could never send them.

These two women were wonderful and kind to me. They loved with their entire hearts and showed their care and concern in ways that barely anyone does. I remember reading poetry with them – something I had written about a year prior. She understood the pain in it.

I could never remember which one I talked to on the phone, but the one I did, was always warm and welcoming. I talked to the other one every now and then too and she was the same. In so many ways, they both understood me – the me I presented to them.

I feel that I have so much to say to them, things I wasn’t ever able to say. I still want to apologize, even though it’s been several years.

I’m sure their hearts have healed and that they have moved on. It seems that they have adopted and I couldn’t be happier for them. I wish I had never hurt them – they never deserved that.

If I close my eyes and am quiet enough, I can hear our conversations. I can feel the caring that was shown to me. I can feel the easy conversation and the heartfelt words. If I relax enough, I can feel okay about what I've done to them ... not that I don't regret it because I will always regret what I've done, but I can feel like what I've done was part of my growing up - part of my past and part of my mistakes.

On some level, I’m sure they knew this.