Have you ever looked into a terrible mistake, and actually felt (not only saw) the light in the end of the tunnel? Well, stuff like that doesn't happen in the reality. Or so I knew until yesterday.
I had another blog in a different language which mainly was for nothing good enough. I had fired all my political speeches and tired-of stuff there, and it really seemed as a blog made for one thing only. To prove myself.

I was well aware of what people thought, and still think of me, that I am sometimes a dumbass looking for an identity. People were annoyed by how my political expressions seemed to contradict eachother. They actually found it hard to see a true way of putting my opinions in order and each time I wanted to explain they just added: "You don't know what you think or believe in".
As for my varied and extended politic's opinions, I had sometimes to spit it on my poor blog.
That is what his life was made of, basically.

So, how this whole bunch of bullshit is connected to the statement of that tunnel?
I decided I would kill that blog, for the simple reason of having this one as the main. I didn't have the guts to kill a year and a half of semi-posting and frustration. I didn't do it, and I didn't care.

I just left it with the last post it had from that last time when desperation almost killed my optimism. I didn't care much about it being there, showing so much of myself to the uncaring audience.

I sat yesterday on messenger, telepathy as always made its way to show us both the exact moment in which to connect. I say as always because it happened many times.
We spoke as always, and then we somehow got into the topic of blogs and all that is between that. So I sent a link of my other blog, which is in a different language, and she sank into it.
I noticed she didn't write for some minutes, and when she was on again she told me she almost wept because of the post in there. Which is there, to remind you, since July.
I was stunned, and asked myself what the hell was that made her want to cry.
I moved to the site and I felt as if all my blood had been drained from me. There stood the old post, exposing all my feelings for her and what I felt when she left. I explained I was apparently deeply in love with her and how it killed me that she had left without leaving me a chance to tell her how much I love her. I was in big trouble.

If ever there was a person who wouldn't have to see this it would have been her. And she saw it.
I didn't say names, but the clues were clear to her. And then struck the first question, "Is this really what you felt... when I left?".

I mean, I really felt dead. For some reason, I was willing not to tell her about my feelings. And the damage had already been done. I felt stupid, 'cause I didn't check the posts first. I really was pissed off by this. And that is when I told myself: "Nice way of finishing the day, dumb!".
Stuff like this never happens to me, but this time I just made the terrible mistake.

To conclude this story and short as possible: We love eachother. We both feel better. And for some reason, I don't think the distance could be a problem. And I feel calm, really calm. For the first time in ages. I just feel like writing something.

P.S. If that wasn't enough for this whole week, I got an invitation for Inteligence Force's Exams. Woohoo, Army!