Five years later, I found this lost diary again. And it's kinda interesting to re-read all those entries during the solitary nights. But what didn't kill me made me stronger. Fond memories may be the most hurtful things, but they are also things which open our eyes and hearts.
Five years later, I looked back, I realize it had been a tough journey despite the good times. I do not regret the time, the effort and the sacrifices. Because they became sound experiences for me over the years. I now live a happy life, found people and love around me which I can be who I am. I do not need to please, do not need to cower and do not need to always tread on thin ice.
I walk boldly and the way I always wanted.
And I f*cking hate mee soto, nasi lemak, sweet pseudo cannot-make-it chilli chicken at Spize. Now, and five years ago. Just that you were not given the privilege to know the truth.
Five years later, I am still alive. And stronger than you imagined.
