The Badminton Court

I walked past the badminton court on my way home from grabbing a Coke Zero at seven-eleven tonight.

The badminton court where, I remember, I would spend hours sitting and crying alone every night. For weeks, perhaps. If I weren't at the court, I would sitting by the sea. I would be sitting there for hours, not because I was crying for that goddamn long, but because I was crying so hard I needed that long a time to let the puffiness subside before I could go back home and pretend nothing had happened.

To think of it now, I laugh to myself. What a sorry (little) ass I'd been.

That was exactly two years ago.


I have indeed taken a long while to get this far today. No apologies about it, the key point is that I've gotten this far. In my own time.

If you'd ask me, I don't think I could've done it any better.


The strength that belies the weakness.

Or I suppose, the other way round.