April 25, 2003
I'm leaving this place.
My uncle recommended somewhere new—he said maybe there, I can start over, rebuild away from all this mess. He promised to put in a word, help me land a job, and told me to forget everything and move on.
Forget and be happy, he said.
I will move on. But forget? No.
I'll never forget what they did to me. I'll carry it—not as baggage, but as memory. A cruel reminder of the ruin they made.
And if I ever cross paths with someone from here, I'll smile and ask,"Did karma have its way with you yet?". Then I'll tell them how happy I've been since I left. Brightly. Proudly.
Maybe I'll even laugh.
It's a nice thought. I just hope someday, it becomes real.