Wounded hope

Its been nearly half year, and how quickly the time does past. That fateful evening still remains to be a night mare. Etched in my memory like a wound which ought never heals. That sense of helplessness still grips me. Only thing I do not cry as much as I did earlier. It is not because I overcame the grief nor that I forgot it, purely because I no more have the strength to cry. I really cannot reconcile with self. All the conscious attempts that I made to overcome this have turned futile. I want to come out of this, I want to move on, or in reality DO I, really want to. The thought suddenly comes, irrespective of what I am doing, or where I am, rendering me helpless and making me to silently mourn. There have been heartbreaks earlier, but none which has been sustained for so long. I repent for every moment that I made you feel bad. It was that sense of confidence that I have you for life, made me a bit foolish in the way I did treat you. I just hope if only I did not waste those moments. I do eagerly waited for so long, just to meet you and see you for those couple of hours. Surely they were the happiest moments. I ever had. I am waiting dear, for past many months for you to just respond. I go about with an anticipation that might be I would see you. I know it is my stupidity to hope. I never really understood what transpired. Things happened so quickly that I still do not get a sense of reality. I do not want answers as to what has happened; I just want to see you, once. Time does not always heal.