Letting you go

When I was taking residence at my aunt's place at Paya Lebar, I swore myself an oath that I would never return back to my parents, ever. I swore to make sure they spent their remaining Hari Rayas without me, that they would never watch me graduate with a diploma, that they would never look at me as their daughter again. That was how strong my grudge was, how badly I didn't want to forgive them.

But I did. I put away my ego, and I returned. 

Although I've been caught in between two homes ever since, I really enjoy being a Pasir Ris girl again. I find myself back in the sadness of 2012, yet at the same time, the glee and joy of the other years of my previous life.

I find myself in 2008, when I was still so obsessed with anime and all things part of the Japanese culture. When I would sit on the computer for hours catching up on seasons of different series; when I would listen to only strictly JRock and JPop on the bus trip to school; when I would sit at my desk drawing stupid little manga versions of me. When I learnt that being proud and letting people know what you like was easy.

I find myself in 2009, when I started writing in my diaries again. When I would sit at my desk religiously every night and write about how I was feeling, what had happened during the day. When I wrote shallow entries that did not make me cry or frown in anger as I was writing. When I could so easily handle my emotions myself, and just love the people who were around me.

I find myself in 2010, when I would go for walks around when I was upset. When I would plug in my earpiece, listen to that one song that hits me hard, on repeat. When Pasir Ris Park was my true home, where there was nobody around but the ghosts of the past. When there was nothing to reminisce but happy childhood memories. When I understood that sometimes we gotta let our loved ones be alone for a while.

I find myself in 2011, when I was attached to the PS3. When I would sit on it for hours, defeating swarms of soldiers with my throwing knives, or shooting the heads off zombies with my favourite weapon, the shotgun. When I myself thought it was okay to neglect other people in order to game. When I knew how it felt like to vent your frustrations on virtual enemies.

I find myself in 2012, when my love for my parents were through the roof no matter what. When our friendship wasn't as close as before, which I took as chances to improve bonds with them. When I wasn't under the same roof every day of the week, which I used to appreciate every moment with them more. When I was broken, but tried to fix myself by being with them.

You never knew me when I was a Pasir Ris girl. You never knew me when I had a bedroom, when I had a PS3, when I had my parents. You never knew me when I had no grudges. Here I am, re-enacting that person I was, being happy again. I've learnt that doing this isn't for you, but for my own good. It's your loss that you didn't take the chance I offered to get to know me better in a different light.

It doesn't matter. I don't need you anymore. I have other things to spend my time on. I'm not a Paya Lebar girl anymore; I'm not broken like I had been; I'm not a scared girl hiding under a beanie and pile of hair anymore; I'm not heavy with anger, or grudge, or memories that I can't let go. I'm not the girl you had met a year ago.

I've grown taller, and become lighter, my heads are up higher, and I shall be happier. I'm letting go of you now. Thank you again for everything. Good luck finding another girl who would appreciate you, dismiss your flaws, and do her best for you.