This ain't goodbye...or is it?

I watched Rent again for the first time in years. I was slightly afraid, like with many other things, that it would have been ruined or changed for me because my idealism is so battered and bent. But I still teared up at all the same parts. I still wanted to dance and sing to the same parts. And towards the end, I was still filled with an unfailing hope that was incredibly reassuring and needed.

I will admit that I have ghosts. There are moments when I relive the darkest parts of my life- the times when henry and eric made fun of me, that awful night with adam, or dad......dark, dark memories that paralyze me and allow the light to be sucked out.

But I'm fighting it.

Today was my last lesson with Ivan. There was this precious moment where, as he was blasting cheesy techno from his cheesy godfather's gift, we sat on the couch cuddled next to each other for warmth, playing tic tac toe and hangman. and i couldn't help but grin.

I realized as I left that it was yet another valuable learning experience. I changed a little boy from a monster to a sweet little fellow that loves to read and says "thanks" and "excuse me". That is much more amazing than making millions of dollars.

When I first started teaching Ivan, I would let tears trickle down my face and allow myself to indulge in wallowing pain as I drove to his house, hurridly wiping my face when I pulled up to the place. But now, today, as I drove away I played Keith Urban: If ever I could love and I realized how far I've come.

It's been a boring, occasionally dramatic, relatively monotone few months. And although there are many times when I've writhed and raged against how bored I've been, I think in a way I needed it. I needed some serious quiet time like right now, sitting in my room and just thinking quietly....just being at peace. Safe from the world, safe from my past and my future....collecting myself. Healing. Coming to terms, digesting, accepting things.

That's what I've done, isn't it? I've accepted it. I still get angry and sad sometimes, but I'm trying really hard to forgive everyone- and mostly, to forgive myself. I'm not a saint, I'm not a Christian- I still wish a horrible death on a handful of people.

But my raging hate has simmered down to a echo of anger at the back of my heart. With the comfort of home, albeit how irritating and irksome and awfully dull it can be, the noxious poison has been drained from my soul. I've come to terms.

I've come to terms. Yeah...those are the words.

Ghosts exist. I will admit that. But I'm refusing to let them haunt me anymore.

I'm alright :)

Anger

There was a grey's episode about how anger is one of the worst sins, because it doesn't only hurt yourself. Well, I disagree. Anger seems to hurt you the worst out of all people, especially if it won't go away.



Sometimes when I am triggered, I realize that there are A LOT of things to be angry about. Steph's hypocrisy and the whole niko episode...Mom and how she ruined our last years of innocence by being a maternal tyrant....Dad and how he is practically shaking to pounce on me at the slightest misstep because he hates how i humiliated him.....god, my entire family because of how unsupportive and misunderstanding they are about my career choice.



My old friends. Like how Jess seems to use me as an emotional crutch. Or worst of all, how Eric abandoned me during the worst time of my life and didn't rescue me when I desperately needed rescuing.



Sigh. There are a lot of things to be angry about.



But I have realized that all this anger only hurts me. And why should I indulge in something that is so masochistic? If it somehow hurt them, or got vengeance, that might be fair, but as far as I know they're all happily living their lives without a clue as to how I feel. I feel like that kindl yold man patient in Grey's (lol I miss Grey's) who seemed so nice but on his death bed, made all these bitchy tapes.



The point is, it's pointless. I could start yelling at each person I'm angry at, but realy what would it achieve except me getting lonelier and lonelier?



What's past is past. The worst insult you can give someone is not to hate them, but to dignify them as dead to you. Dad goes in that category, as the worst case. But as for Mom, Steph, Jess, and Eric....there was enough love and loyalty laced through all the anger that they're not dead to me. I still need them, I still need PEOPLE. I refuse to end up like my father- alone, delusional, and slightly insane.



I choose people. I choose the light, morality, and I guess I grudgingly choose a form of forgiveness where I don't really forgive people but I try to move past what doesn't matter anymore.

No drama

I feel like a lot of lines from various chick flicks and tv shows apply to my life. Like from "he's just not that into you", how the justin long character (and i still don't understand how he became famous from apple commercials) says "you chicks are addicted to drama!"

and i believe that is true.

a bit of good drama- excitement, that is- is healthy every now and then. admittedly my tendencies are towards the melancholy pining kind, and i'm glad i'm over that.

i know i'm not soulless, like sayid. i just feel very...blah. it's boring at home. but one bit that i admitted to jess was that, as angry as i am with my family, i know consciously and grudgingly that a lot of my anger is from my previous issues.

whatever. i'm so jittry right now, there's no way i'm going to sleep. bah. i really want to go to shanghai, to experience the streets/clubbing/night life craziness with good friends, and a teensy bit to see an old friend (admittedly) but i know that claremont is far more important. if i get in, i'll definitely go. and if i can't squeeze in the shanghai trip, then so be it.

yep...