To:

No subject

Twenty-four years living on this foreign land and I never thought of you again, ever.

The moment the plane lifted into the air, I had already packed my memory all up in pretty boxes and threw them out of the window. I finally able to escape from the caged society I abhor, and I didn't hesitate to the severe ties connected back to my old identity. Family, friends; childhood, food - everything was insignificant to the new life yearning in front of me.

You, included.

I remembered watching my memory slowly sunk to the bottom of the Pacific with an empty feeling gaping inside my chest. It was like letting a burden off my shoulders and feel the breeze caress my sore back for the first time. For twenty-four years, I carried on living and breathing. I should have guilt eating me inside out, but I don't.

Completely wipe out my past was a low price I pay for freedom. Right?

Saved as draft at Saturday 02:45 AM