Now on my way back to hostel, dressing in formal shirt, tight skirt with blazer and flip-flops. Yes. Flip-flops.
Don’t judge me. I hate my ballet black flats. It cuts my heels so bad every time I wore it. And I have to deal with the searing pain every time I shower. I scream in agony evey time the water touches my wound. So I change it as soon as I left that place. Besides I got really distaste of this attire. The intense emotional memory will just hits me all over. I remembered really well. Last time I was wearing this formal attire, was the day after i confessed to D. I was on the way home after a briefing for Ghana trip at school, all I can felt that time was the pain. Both my heart and my heels. By the time i walked back to dorm, my heels was so bruised that, I can see blood stain on my inner flats. Being in this attire distaste me. I felt awfully disgusted. By the whole thing and myself. I got to go home. Immediately.
Yesterday was a long night but at least I’ve watched something nice. It’s a Chinese version stage drama of Life Lessons From Tuesdays With Morrie.
“Can you make peace with yourself?”
As simple as that. This theme has been repetitively appeared in my life.
Yes. Make peace with myself? I highly doubt I am now fully in peace with myself, but I am in a better position now.