Turn Over

I thought that writing about him would be like a charthesis, a releasing of all the pent up pain and bitterness within. But maybe it serves only to remind me of how stupid I was, how young I seemed, how different I am now.

This year, I have been trying to prove to the world that I was stronger than whatever the world could throw at me. I tried so hard to deny all my weaknesses and vulnerability that I was like a child with a broken arm screaming that it didn’t hurt so that nobody would try to reset it.

I feel so much older now, but I know that I will look back in a year and laugh at my childishness even now.

It used to be that I couldn’t bear to see him, hear about him, care about him. Now it seems that he’s the one who would rather not see me around in hall, hear about where I had moved out to, care how I was doing at work.

Isn’t it strange how the world suddenly flip flops around you?