Forgiveness


To some of you this picture is meaningless… to me it means 1000 words.

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I cleaned out my atrocious closet today and half of the hallway closet boxes from 15 years old.  I found this little bracelet my ex gave me.  The mala beads were meant to protect me from anxiety and frustration at a time when I was going through a hard time being really unhappy at work.  It’s a cheap little trinket bought out of impulse off of Instagram clicks, but I appreciate the meaning behind it.

The person who gifted me this bracelet has done the unthinkable to me.  He has done things to me that are unforgivable.  He hasn’t even cared to apologize or ask for forgiveness or send me an apology email. Where people don’t go, they will not receive.  He’s done things that have scarred me and will forever impact my trust in men and love and relationships.

Friday night I went to Rum Fire to meet a friend after dinner and drinks at Monkeypod in Koolina.   I had this great drink: scotch, lemon, honey and fresh ginger.  It was spicy and smokey, but slightly sweet to the palette without over doing the sweeteness, with a slightly scotchy bitter after bite.  I was outside drinking a glass of wine on the ocean side bullshitting about politics, Trump and all the rioters with a young military kid.  I told him we can go slap Trump stickers on the cars at the riots lol.  My girlfriend came out to let me know we need to leave, that a friend of ours got in a fight w her boyfriend.  We bounced to the next club to reunite our friend with her fighting boyfriend.   I listened to my friend try to smooth out their wrinkles for a couple hours over the phone.  Dealing with drunken fights is never fun. 😦  What a wonderful friend she is to be so patient as to help her friends out, when she is in an equally drunken state as well.  They too had to forgive each other.

As we drove past an ex’s house from a few years ago, we started to talk about that relationship.  He’s been checking on me low key and I know that he cares about me, but that relationship ended in a truly horrible way.  Things have never been ironed out, and I never really forgave him.  He never asked for forgiveness.  I think he knew that no words could take back how bad he had treated me.  It was easier to just run away. I understand that my bitterness was never resolved.  To me, having a break is hard and I sent him an email apology and two years later he think it’s best to not respond.  That keeps me blinded and full of un-forgiveness.

As we drove up the marina, she played a voicemail from an old friend apologizing.  They had a mutual friend die and had a big fight.  She said her friend advised her not to answer or respond.  I feel like people who do not answer calls or return apologies are rude and it’s not a reflection of you; it’s a reflection of them; that they are unable to deal with complexities of the dynamics of whatever situation that may be.  It’s like they think they are too good to acknowledge your apology.  Or they have the “one-up.”  An apology is a hard thing to conjur up.  Honestly, I’ve only been apologized to a handful of times in my life by people who have did me wrong and genuinely were seeking forgiveness.  Ignoring an apology is like not dealing with your emotions because it’s easier to ignore it, put it on the back burner, and not acknowledge the drama.  That person was seeking a peace of mind when they came to you to apologize, and if you are unable to speak to them to confront your demons, then you too have not obtained peace of mind from whatever angers you.

I wore that bracelet last night after I found it.  I wanted to throw it away at first.  But then I put it on my wrist and remembered the kind gesture behind the bracelet.  He may have hurt me, and I may quite possibly never speak to him again, but I’m not dwelling on the anger anymore.  I didn’t wear it because of some silly nostalgic notion that I was being reminiscent of the past.  I wore it because I found forgiveness.

Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.

My Blurry New Years


It started off by having drinks all afternoon at Femme Nu, where 3 of my girlfriends, and 2 other guys met me at Ichiriki for dinner.  We got bombed on beer, sake, guavatinis and shiso mojitos.  After that we all parked our cars at Pearl and consolidated.  Stacy and I walked in Pearl to use the bathroom before we head out to Yard House.  On the way to Yard House, she discovers she left her iPhone at Pearl and continued to call it until the bathroom attendant answered it.  They dropped us off and went back to get their phone.  The 4 of us walked over to Rum Fire where I lost my friends and watched the fireworks from the beach alone.  My other 2 friends, now back at Yard House, and my other friend who just met up txt me to come back to Yard House.  My phone is about to die, so I jump in a cab and head back to Yard House in the middle of the fireworks.  My phone is blowing up with about 10 people that I am suppose to meet at Kelly Oneil’s down the street. 

It’s 5 after midnight, and my girlfriend is wasted and wants to go downtown to see her Dad by Bar 35.  I have a lot of friend’s waiting for me, and I tell her that we should go to down the street to Kelly’s for 30 minutes, then we can go downtown for the rest of the night.  She didn’t listen and just left.  I figured she was wasted, but I was pretty pissed, and I told her to just go home, and not come meet up with us later.  Regardless, my other 3 friends came back from Rumfire, and we all walked over to Kelly Oneil’s. 

As we walked out of Yard House, 15 minutes after midnight, I got a hysterical call from some guy’s girlfriend.  I guess the night before I had met somebody, read my previous blog about the guy who I met at Femme Nu who tried to seduce me, then told me we can’t go back to his place because he had a girlfriend.  His girlfriend stalked my Facebook page, found my number, apparently follows my blogs now.  Because she calls me screaming that she read my blog.  Frustrated, because she had called me earlier as well, and just finishing a jack and water and a little buzzed, I screamed at her to stop fucking call me, and to come down to Kelly Oneil’s and talk to my face, but stop calling me.  She threatened me a bit, then refused to come down, because “she was hanging with her family.”

1st of all… Don’t believe everything you read.  Not everything you read on the internet is reliable.  These are stories, and sometimes entertainment, inspired from real events.

2nd of all… You need to be trippin on your man, not me, because if you believe everything you read, I DON”T WANT YOUR  FUCKING MAN! 

So we all walk back to my friends place nearby where I’m irritated by my phone blowing up by this girl.  So I think in my drunken stupor, I slam my iPhone on my friends granite counter.  It is no longer working.  So my 2 friends end up hooking up in the bedroom, where there is no door.  Trying to ignore them, we start our own party in the living room.  They are all drinking Four Loco, the malt beverage that has been illegalized because too many teenagers are dying off of it.  It is 13% alcohol.  I sipped on Seagrams Sweet Tea.  Great drink by the way!   After a while, I started crying about my ex, who my friend brought up, who everybody know’s I’ve always loved for 3 years.  And I play a drunk stupid ass for 5 minutes.  Then me and my girlfriend start fooling around and film everything. LOL!  It was a fun night! 

Then in the morning, my gf who left calls me because I have her car keys, and we all left our cars at Alamoana.  So we meet at Original Pancake house over on Kapiolani.  There’s a 30 minute wait, so we head over to Mai Tai to have breakfast and drinks.  All I eat is a couple pieces of sashimi, and 2 bloody marys.  Me and my girlfriend (the sober one) drive to northshore to pick up her son in La’ie.  We head to my place to get ready, and back to my other friends, where they drove my car to.  Shaking from lack of sleep, lack of food, and alcohol withdrawals, I drink to glasses of wine, and try some of my friends great greek salad, and bbq.  My stomach was jacked up so I didn’t get to eat too much.  We crash out here.

In the morning, I take 3 IB Profen.  After 10 minutes I start to feel super warm and fuzzy and drowsy.  I thought maybe I was still hanging.  But then my friend realized that they are actually Flexural.  I think they looked like Percocet.  But Anyhow.  We go back to the beach house and La’ie where I am trashed all day, but get to relax and try to rest.  After that, we drive to DnBs to take the kids to play, where I have 2 Corona’s.  At this point, I’m finally feeling better, but I know it’s time to sleep. 

It may be all confusing, but I drove responsibly this weekend. LOL! I left my car, and even had it towed at one point.