and finally, it's over. over over over. what's left is to shake out the scab in the heart much like a toothbrush scrubs away a bad taste in the mouth [or grosser, the little furry things that make your tongue yellow] and forget it. because we do forget bad tastes. In such cases memory more often than not is kind and in spite of even the most determined, we forget the time. I'm free, and happy. free free free. It's a lovely feeling. no more pressure, no more gritting my teeth because I made a bad choice and had the guts to stick it out. yay. Footloose and fancy free. Now to carpe diem and make the most of the remaining time, that being the rest the rest of my life. Why I wanted in was one [justified] reason, and that at least consoles me. That it wasn't pure folly. Because I would have to be honest with myself and admit that yes, I did like the thrill and fun of it. But it's been too long, too far away since I was innocent [ignorant?] enough to play in bliss. Sociology is right in that external pressures shape us. I have been unknowingly moulded. Maybe because only hindsight is perfect.

and now that I'm settled down comfortably into my seat [I can't imagine why though, I swear I've got the most made-in-china chair-], my contrary mind dries up. ohwell. I'm still a glad girl.