I have been a real slow this year. According to the Google Analytics, I continued to disappoint a few regular visitors as it seems. My struggle is no longer a secret.
This year, I uninstalled the Facebook app from my phone and tried to stay away from the Zuckerland. I also waved goodbye to Twitter, for different reasons. I hoped this would increase my productivity and creativity, and as you can see-it didn’t go well. o.
It’s not all doom and gloom though, I have been “not-so-secretly” working on my other website dedicated to film stories and screenplays. (Please check it out if you haven’t already.) I will try to update both sites regularly from now on. Not a promise or a NYR, just to be clear.
Today, thanks to a memory notification from Google Photos, I am now sitting in front of a desktop, typing this to review a major event that happened seven years ago by appropriately titling it seven years in isolation. I should have added the word “involuntarily” too.
If you know me personally, you likely recall the incident on December 9, 2017, and may have heard a distorted version of the story. Distorted in the sense that I haven’t openly spoken to it with anyone. I wrote some vague blogs and that was it. And I was unnecessarily cryptic too, possibly because I wasn’t ready. If you didn’t know, my ex attacked me when I was about to fall asleep and called the police, with some made-up accusations. I spent two nights in the custody and was, unsurprisingly, released without charge. The police didn’t believe her, but they told me that they have to act because she reported first. When I returned from the custody, I discovered that she had fled the house with all the valuables, including a copy of my passport and wedding certificate. She was later charged with domestic violence.
A few weeks after this, I spoke to her after arranging a meeting at her relative’s house. We had a long chat. Once again, I forgave her and asked her to return. She initially agreed, and I dropped her off at her temporary accommodation. But the reason I was not aware at the time-she blocked me from all communication platforms.
Later, I was using her laptop for something, and I found two word documents-created between October and November. Curiosity made me investigate further, and I discovered that this was a part of a long thought plan when I was using her laptop. Either she had forgotten to clear her internet search history, or she was a great psychic who predicted the “abuse” months ago. Or perhaps she could travel through time.
Back to the present.
As I scrolled through more photos and videos from that day, memories came rushing back—some were still sore, but mostly wonderful. It was wonderful to see how much I’ve grown, and how my horizon have expanded. If we were together, I would have also turned into a self-centred, judgmental person.
I sometimes question myself whether I regret forgiving her for her affair with the guy she claimed she was caring for, and for the ongoing deception throughout the relationship. She took my forgiveness for my naivety and kindness for weakness. Had I chosen not to forgive her in 2014, I could have saved myself from a hell of headache, metaphorically and physically.
Then sometimes I tell myself, forgiveness is not acceptance. By forgiving her, I set myself free.
She still takes every opportunity to manipulate and guilt-trap me. Sometimes the manipulation goes as far as my elderly parents. If she doesn’t have anything else to manipulate, she deliberately makes me wait for an unnecessarily long time whenever I go pick or drop our daughter off.
Yet, I refuse to succumb to every darkness she tries to cast. I have now mastered this art.
The only disappointment I probably carry to my deathbed is not her success in manipulating people, but those who fell for it and cut me off.
If I take out one lesson from the past years, it is that not everybody deserves a second chance in life. Especially those who take your forgiveness as a weakness and your laid-back attitude as a token of manipulation.
That’s it. Thank you for reading.