Six years later and I'm yet to really forgive myself for that night. And I know why.
As much as a piece of me feels proud that I had done that to him, the other had wrecked me for days.
Someone once said that the deal with forgiving and forgetting is to do it constantly. Consistently. To keep reminding yourself that you're over it, that you've chosen to let go.
And I think that's the same with not giving a damn. Each day, you will have to remind yourself not to care. Not to give a shit. You have to harden your heart against pity and regret.
Yes, I felt bad that I had landed my dad in the hospital, but he deserved it. Besides, I was paying back the favor for that time he did the same to me in senior year.
My grades had dwindled that year because of Claire. That was the year she lost every privilege of being my mom. Of being called 'mom'.
