For once, my nights are not caught up with knitting, Nil and people wanting to chat or say hello. Nights like these are rare – just time for me and me alone – and the mind starts to wander. It always does.
In all honesty, I do not profess to be a saint. Perhaps to a certain degree on this blog and in some entries here (or even in life), I can be a total bitch…cold, hard, vindictive, unfeeling, etc. The list could go on and on. Or at least the Ex would think so. He did leave a comment in here long ago about how he felt about me. Funny how he told me otherwise a few months later.
There is no love lost between us. We went from a loving, laughing couple to two people who can’t stand the sight of each other. Our civility, if forced, is only thanks to our Asian upbringing. How did love turn into such bitterness, evaporated over time, died like a flickering flame? Sometimes it scares me. This memory, this hate, this unsatiated feeling… Oh don’t mistake me. I can forgive but I can’t forget. Forgetting is like pretending it never happened. Forgetting is ignoring the mistakes. Forgetting is failing to learn.
