Will blog more about Ailin's 21st when the pictures finish downloading...
it struck me again yesterday how remarkably different I've become since I was 13, 14, 16, 19 that yiwen had to keep asking, "what? you were an ahlian?"
i should find some pictures of that era and post them or something.
and PMS, and self-battering, and so much anger. anger at the world and at God for being so unfair; anger at people for being unable to fulfil their basic responsibilities, and worse, my expectations; anger at myself for being so self-pitying and attention-seeking -- but they all seem fragments of a past I let out of my throat in screams and tears on the floor, a past I narrate as a distant story every now and then, so distant that people don't actually sense the immensity of the (then) pain which shredded my blinking soul to pieces. but they've gone now and now there's the feeling of tranquility you get when you sit by the beach on a semi-sunny day and watch the waves bring in their tidings. There used to be so much melancholy on a breakwater at ECP; and now there's only that glimpse of hope along the horizon. love, love. a soothing mother's voice that envelops the other sounds around you, one that croons love and warmth such that it overflows, one that assures you, 'don't worry, you are mine, and no one can ever do anything to you'
But, you see, it's not about me, and it never should be
Thank You, God. my Father. You've done more than I can ever ask for.
And I thank You that You give anyone who asks...
