April 6, 2015 | 1251 AM
I’m so sorry, if you can just let me wail and rant and pour my heart out for a second… Do you remember [insert name]? One of the girls in my stupid little group in high school? The one with [insert names]. She actually got married on the weekend of the 21st of March. And ever since then my Facebook wall has been flooded with pictures and I’m trying I’m trying I’M REALLY TRYING not to busuk hati [lit. foul-hearted] and whatnot because really, it has been seven years! Seven years! I should be 100% unaffected by now, you know?
And it’s not so much I wish her unhappiness – it’s that I find it so hard to wish her well. It is like to wish her well with sincere congratulations keeps getting stuck in my throat. And get this… two of the girls – [insert names] – who are both still in their last year in medical schools in the UK actually worked out their schedules to fly back for the reception. And the ones who are home like [insert name] and [insert name] were obviously the bridesmaids…
And just… its high school reunion all over. And the deskmate who I don’t really talk to anymore because… I don’t even know why, suddenly silence is more normal than actually talking; I keep coming across photos and photos and photos of them and their happy faces and being in each others’ arms and ugh one of the girls have been liking my stuff on Facebook too so I just went to her profile and she has this friggin’ status-paragraph with a collage of photos and how “ten years have passed since the six of us found each other in this big, big world” (and so on and on) –
and I’m just. My heart. I… dammit.
Realistically, I don’t even know them anymore you know? Realistically, it would be too awkward for me if I ever see myself being mentioned in any capacity by any of them (I wouldn’t mention them either…) but they are such triggers. I JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND. I see them together and I bleed. I see them happy together and I bleed. I see their arms wrapped around each other and I weep. [But] I don’t even know them anymore… and vice versa.
That weekend of the 21st was when my old friend – remember [insert name] from my high school years? – came over and we kind of celebrated our birthdays together – hers is on the 30th – and it was a strange kind of night that brought to life stories from the past and she’d asked about these girls and I contemplated saying nothing but in the end I got to talking and I haven’t spoken aloud about what happened in years, you know? And still, my voice… quivered.
It was shaky and unsteady and even I could taste the bitterness in my mouth and when I was done talking, she was all “Listen to me. It didn’t just hurt. It hurt. I understand that. But your ego and you still clinging on to that version of the past, of them and what they did to you-“
And then it hit me that I really haven’t properly healed from the places and faces of the past…
For all my gusto about moving forward and whatever else, the truth is… I couldn’t even send a “Sorry I couldn’t make it, but congratulations you look so lovely!” message and every time I come across their reunion photos, I feel like punching someone or taking out the air that has collected inside of me… It’s been so long… and so many friends since then have been SO GREAT IN COMPARISON.
So why… does it still hurt?
Sometimes I feel like I’m so busuk hati; I can’t even pray and wish happiness for them in a truly genuine, sincere way. I would force myself… which means exactly that: I’m forcing myself.
And I mean generally speaking, the clique thing was seriously so stupid. SO STUPID. So silly! What a thing to cry and lose sleep over and feel so unresolved and angry about for seven years, you know? And yet. Ughhh. I look at their photos and I find myself mostly having to hold back from muttering, “Fuck you” – for staying friends and being the friends they are to each other at the cost of outcasting me. But the very fact that they are the kind of friends that they are to each other… I’m not surprised. I’m not. …but this fact also kind of breaks me.
In the end they are the better, bigger persons compared to my petty, petty self.
Will I ever be healed and removed from this part of the past, these people, and genuinely, when I say “I forgive you” – know that I mean it, in that moment and always? Will I ever, truly and sincerely?
— last seen today at 115 AM —
April 6, 2015 | 913 PM
Yes you will –
…[but] what you need to be is very clear of your identity and therefore, you’ll be very comfortable in your own skin. This comes with age- also a determined clear-headedness of who you are, and not who you feel you should be.
— last seen today at 915 PM —
April 6, 2015 | 916 PM
(hugs Eldest Sis tightly)
— last seen today at 917 PM —
And so I begin again; this long road to forgiveness.
One day I’ll say it and know, with all of my heart, that I mean it:
I forgive you.