To forgive and forget.

My entire Saturday has been spent with my family, watching Over the Hedge at 12.45pm and finally some grand, zomg-annual-company-dinner done by a rich uncle at the Oversea Restaurant in Cheras. Food was excellent (it has to be excellent considering my uncle paid RM800 plus per table), and uh, there’s this silly lucky draw where all of us won mostly silly prizes ranging from Maggi Mee packets to a roll of toilet paper, which my mum managed to snag. I won a pack of Eu Yan Sang yin mo for my dear mother, huhu.

At about 11.30pm when we reached home, after communicating with Andy via phone several times, I picked up Heng from his house and we went to the USJ 14 cybercafe behind my house. Despite having all the custom maps for CZ, the computer I used has a rather dysfunctional mouse and keyboard, a fatal combination for a successful shot. Everytime a person comes within my line of view, my mouse which seemed to have a brain on its own moved away automatically and I shot blank air and walls in succession.

And how much an hour for it? RM3. Ripoff.

Andy had to go back early; I dropped off WH, then we went to the USJ 1 mamak for a quick bite/drink before we went back home as well, myself reaching at my own house at 1.30am.

These days, I’ve never felt so perfectly, awfully at peace, sporadically happy for no reason at all that I just break into a smile. I know I’ve mentioned these stuffs randomly in previous entries, where bad things made me pissed, and happy occurences made me genuinely happy, and I believe I fall into the latter part (for now).

Ever since I was lifted off of my burden, ever since I was liberated. Ever since I realised that the people who can release you from your mental cuffs, gnawing at you slowly, is closer than you think.

And there are also times when I couldn’t help but hate a particular person within our midst, loathe this idiot so bad that there isn’t going to be a chance to ever forgive and forget - something I pride myself for easily doing so. It’s like having someone stabbing you at a particular spot in your chest, and just when the wound was about to recover, the same spot was stabbed again and again and again throughout the years that the wound just wouldn’t heal anymore.

That’s what it felt like. I’ve tried forgiving, I’ve tried forgetting, I’ve tried and I’ve tried and I knew that that would never be possible again; that as long as that person exists and cross me, that’s as long as I’ll feel uneasy with his presence, and the gradual loathe rising.

If I could just forgive and forget one of the several crooked nooks of my life naturally which is this wonderful idiot, I would.

But hey, I’m happy, I’m contented, I’m a mish-mash of grinning clowns and swimming pools, and I intend to keep it that way for as long as it’s possible.