A lesson to be learned.

I have recently heard of the passing of someone I knew in High School. He was my sister's ex-boyfriend and I believe too young to die. It's interesting. When he and my sister were dating I hated him with a passion. I found ways to make his life a living hell. He wasn't a saint either in his ways of treating her and me, but now looking back I realize how stupid I was. Why is it that when a person we dislike is alive all we do is bring them down and then when they die all we do is bring ourselves down?-- probably because I'm learning that life is too Goddamn short, and that all the idiotic, pointless things we think about, overanalyze, criticize, condemn; they're not worthy of our time. And that time is priceless and extremely limited. I go back and forth in my head, wondering, if I was just a little bit nice to him, maybe things would be different. And quite honestly, I don't know if I feel guilty because of his death or because of the way I treated him in his life. Sounds selfish of me, I know. Worrying about how the way I was to him and how it influences the way I feel about his death. But people are just people, they are mortal. And the truth is, people die all the time. But when it's people we know, people we've shared life with, we realize how closely death is to all of us. Maybe I should learn from this, I mean, I think I'm already learning. Hatred is a such a strong concept. I feel at some point that hatred can turn into whatever we let it. And now, Ive realized that hatred is just a waste of our time. And that life should be just moments of compassion, laughter and love. It seems too late but, I ask you T______, please forgive me for all the hatred i've shown you. And may this lesson stay with me always.