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Forgiveness
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>To those who haven't forgiven others or received forgiveness,
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>It had been three years since Lisa last opened the box. A sudden move to Boston had kept her from packing it. But now that she was back home, she took the time to look again at the memories.
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>Fingering the corners of the box and stroking its cover, Lisa pictured in her mind what was inside. There was a photo of the family trip to the Grand Canyon, a note from her friend telling her that Nick Bicotti liked her, and the Indian arrowhead she had found while on her senior class trip. One by one, she remembered the items in the box, lingering over the sweetest, until she came to the last and only painful memory. She knew what it looked like--a single sheet of paper upon which lines had been drawn to form boxes, 490 of them to be exact. And each box contained a check mark, one for each time.
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>"How many times must I forgive my brother?" the disciple Peter had asked Jesus. "Seven times?" Lisa's Sunday school teacher had read Jesus' surprise answer to the class. "Seventy times seven."
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>Lisa had leaned over to her brother Brent as the teacher continued reading. "How many times is that?" she whispered. Brent, though two years younger, was smarter than she was.
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>"Four hundred and ninety," Brent wrote on the corner of his Sunday school paper. Lisa saw the message, nodded, and sat back in her chair. She watched her brother as the lesson continued. He was small for his age, with narrow shoulders and short arms. His glasses were too large for his face, and his hair always matted in swirls. He bordered on being a nerd, but his incredible skills at everything, especially music, popular with his classmates.
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>Brent had learned to play the piano at age four, the clarinet at age seven, and had just begun to play oboe. His music teachers said he'd be a famous musician someday. There was only one thing at which Lisa was better than Brent--basketball. They played it almost every afternoon after school. Brent could have refused to play, but he knew that it was Lisa's only joy in the midst of her struggles to get C's and D's at school. Lisa's attention came back to her Sunday school teacher as the woman finished the lesson and closed with prayer. That same Sunday afternoon found brother and sister playing basketball in the driveway. It was then that the counting had begun. Brent was guarding Lisa as she dribbled toward the basket. He had tried to bat the ball away, got his face near her elbow, and took a shot on the chin. "Ow!", he cried out and turned away. Lisa saw her opening and drove to the basket, making an asy lay-up. She gloated over her success but stopped when she saw Brent. "you
>okay?", she asked. Brent shrugged his shoulders.
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>"Sorry," Lisa said. "Really. It was a cheap shot."
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>"It's all right. I forgive you," he said. A thin smile then
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>formed on his face. "Just 489 more times though."
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>"Whaddaya mean?" Lisa asked. "You know...what we learned in Sunday school today. You're supposed to forgive someone 490 times. I just forgave you, so now you have 489 left," he kidded. The two of them laughed at the thought of keeping track of every time Lisa had done something to Brent. They were sure she had gone past 490 long ago. The rain interrupted their game, and the two moved indoors." Wanna play Battleship?" Lisa asked. Brent agreed, and they were soon on the floor of the living room with their game boards in front of them. Each took turns calling out a letter and number combination, hoping to hit each other's ships.
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>Lisa knew she was in trouble as the game went on. Brent had only lost one ship out of five. Lisa had lost three. Desperate to win, she found herself leaning over the edge of Brent's barrier ever so slightly. She was thus able to see where Brent had placed two of his ships. She quickly evened the score. Pleased, Lisa searched once more for the location of the last two ships. She peered over the barrier again, but this time Brent caught her in the act."Hey, you're cheating!" He stared at her in disbelief.
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>Lisa's face turned red. Her lips quivered. "I'm sorry," she said, staring at the carpet. There was not much Brent could say. He knew Lisa sometimes did things like this. He felt sorry that Lisa found so few things she could do well. It was wrong for her to cheat, but he knew the temptation was hard for her. "Okay, I forgive you," Brent said. Then he added with a small laugh," I guess it's down to 488 now, huh?" "Yeah, I guess so." She returned his kindness with a weak smile and added,
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>"Thanks for being my brother, Brent."
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>Brent's forgiving spirit gripped Lisa, and she wanted him to know how sorry she was. It was that evening that she had made the chart with the 490 boxes. She showed it to him before he went to bed.
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>"We can keep track of every time I mess up and you forgive me," she said." See, I'll put a check in each box--like this." She placed two marks in the upper left-hand boxes. "These are for today." Brent raised his hands to protest." You don't need to keep--" "Yes I do!" Lisa interrupted. "You're always forgiving me, and I want to keep track.
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>Just let me do this!" She went back to her room and tacked the chart to her bulletin board.
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>There were many opportunities to fill in the chart in the years that followed. She once told the kids at school that Brent talked in his sleep and called out Rhonda Hill's name, even though it wasn't true. The teasing caused Brent days and days of misery.
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>When she realized how cruel she had been, Lisa apologized sincerely.
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>That night she marked box number 96. Forgiveness number 211 came in the tenth grade when Lisa failed to bring home his English book. Brent had stayed home sick that day and had asked her to bring it so he could study for a quiz.
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>She forgot and he got a C. Number 393 was for lost keys...418 for the extra bleach she put in the washer, which ruined his favorite polo shirt...449, the dent she had put in his car when she had borrowed it.
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>There was a small ceremony when Lisa checked number 490. She used a gold pen for the check mark, had Brent sign the chart, and then placed it in her memory box." I guess that's the end," Lisa said. "No more screw-ups from me anymore!"
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>Brent just laughed. "Yeah, right." Number 491 was just another one of Lisa's careless mistakes, but its hurt lasted a lifetime.
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>Brent had become all that his music teachers said he would. Few could play the oboe better than he. In his fourth year at the best music school in the United States, he received the opportunity of a lifetime--a chance to try out for New York City's great orchestra.
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>The tryout would be held sometime during the following two weeks.
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>It would be the fulfillment of his young dreams. But he never got the chance. Brent had been out when the call about the tryout came to the house. Lisa was the only one home and on her way out the door, eager to get to work on time. "Two-thirty on the tenth," the secretary said on the phone. Lisa did not have a pen, but she told herself that she could remember it." Got it. Thanks."
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>I can remember that, she thought. But she did not. It was a week later around the dinner table that Lisa realized her mistake.
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>"So, Brent," his mom asked him, "When do you try out?"
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>"Don't know yet. They're supposed to call." Lisa froze in her seat. "Oh, no!" she blurted out loud. "What's today's date? Quick!" "It's the twelfth," her dad answered. "Why?" A terrible pain ripped through Lisa's heart. She buried her face in her hands, crying. "Lisa, what's the matter?" her mother asked.
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>Through sobs Lisa explained what had happened. "It was two days ago...the tryout...two-thirty...the call came...last week." Brent sat back in his chair, not believing Lisa.
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>"Is this one of your jokes, sis?" he asked, though he could tell her misery was real. She shook her head, still unable to look at him.
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>"Then I really missed it?" She nodded.
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>Brent ran out of the kitchen without a word. He did not come out of his room the rest of the evening. Lisa tried once to knock on the door, but she could not face him. She went to her room where she cried bitterly. Suddenly she knew that she had to do.
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>She had ruined Brent's life. He could never forgive her for that. She had failed her family, and there was nothing to do but to leave home. Lisa packed her pickup truck in the middle of the night and left a note behind, telling her folks she'd be all right.
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>She began writing a note to Brent, but her words sounded empty to her. Nothing I say could make a difference anyway, she thought.
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>Two days later she got a job as a waitress in Boston. She found an apartment not too far from the restaurant. Her parents tried many times to reach her, but Lisa ignored their letters. "It's too late," she wrote them once. "I've ruined Brent's life, and I'm not coming back." Lisa did not think she would ever see home again.
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>But one day in the restaurant where she worked she saw a face she knew. "Lisa!" said Mrs. Nelson, looking up from her plate.
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>"What a surprise."
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>The woman was a friend of Lisa's family from back home. "I was so sorry to hear about your brother," Mrs. Nelson said softly. "Such a terrible accident. But we can be thankful that he died quickly. He didn't suffer." Lisa stared at the woman in shock.
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>"Wh-hat," she finally stammered.It couldn't be! Her brother? Dead? The woman quickly saw that Lisa did not know about the accident. She told the girl the sad story of the speeding car, the rush to the hospital, the doctors working over Brent. But all they could do was not enough to save him. Lisa returned home that afternoon.
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>***************************************
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>Now she found herself in her room thinking about her brother as she held the small box that held some of her memories of him.
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>Sadly, she opened the box and peered inside. It was as she remembered, except for one item--Brent's chart. It was not there.
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>In its place, at the bottom of the box, was an envelope. Her hands shook as she tore it open and removed a letter.
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>The first page read:
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>Dear Lisa,
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>It was you who kept count, not me. But if you're stubborn enough to keep count, use the new chart I've made for you.
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>Love, Brent
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>Lisa turned to the second page where she found a chart just like the one she had made as a child, but on this one the lines were drawn in perfect precision. And unlike the chart she had kept, there was but one check mark in the upper left- hand corner.
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>Written in red felt tip pen over the entire page were the words:
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>"NUMBER 491. Forgiven, FOREVER."
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>forgive others...forgive yourself...
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>Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find;
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>knock and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks
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>receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the
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>door will be opened.

In the years to come,
Will you think about these moments that we shared
In the years to come
Are you gonna think it over
And how we lived each day with no regrets
Nothing lasts forever though we want it to
The road ahead holds different dreams for me and you

Sometimes goodbye, though it hurts in your heart,
is the only way for destiny
Sometimes goodbye, though it hurts,
is the only way now for you and me
Though it's the hardest thing to say
I'll miss your love in every way
So say goodbye
But don't you cry cause true love never dies

In a year from now
Maybe there'll be things
we'll wish we'd never said

In a year from now
Maybe we'll see each other
Standing on the same street corner though it rains

Each and every end is always written in the stars
If only I could stop the world
I'd make this last

And when you need my arms to run into
I'll comfort you
Nothing will ever change the way I feel

So say goodbye
But don't you cry
Because a true love never dies...

My life is a screwed up mess,and i seriously feel i'm such a lousy person.
Know what?I cared more bout what they felt about you than the fact that people "pity" me.
This frustration and confusion is just killing me though i should be immune by now.
I thought i was truly numb inside,but now it's just flowing through my veins,and my pulse is alive once again.
Maybe just. is right,have you asked yourself why you'd feel upset?
God,somebody just kill me..

It takes so long to mould a heart,yet even after,it's never perfect.
But there never was a perfect heart was it?
After all the efforts put in,all it took was just a second to put that line through the middle.
And to mend it,how long would it take?More importantly,would you bother to try hard enough to cover that crack?

I have decided,and i have made up my mind,something i'd do well to keep to.
Be it an act of stupidity,or inability to accept reality i don't care.
I will believe for one last time,even if it means summoning up lost faith.
Actions speak louder than words,and actions i would judge on.
Time is limited,i will not allow myself to linger should it be just another heartbreak.
Show me what you can do,show me what i still mean to you.
Don't tell me all that,cause girl i just wanna see now.

I promised myself i won't drop another tear,
Should i have to let go,there will be no sadness nor regret.
I believe i have truly done all that's within my abilities,
and i've done all that wasn't.
Time will show if i've made a right decision
Time will heal everything,but time will not make me forget.

Forgive not forget
Fool me once shame on you,
Fool me twice shame on me.

I know i've said it half a dozen of times,i'm useless.Why did it all have to happen,why me.
How would it feel,to be lied to,to be painted a beautiful picture you thought would be true.
But it turned out to be a lie,a beautiful story conjured by someone you thought you could trust and someone you loved.

Would you know the pain,of someone you loved hurting you this much.
Have you cried the tears of this pain that cuts deep into the heart.

Thank you guys,for being there for me,cushioning this fall for me.I appreciate it alot.

I don't know where it came from,or what it fell for,but as the ring lay clenched in my fists,a tear fell.With it trailed another,and another...I don't know if it fell for you,or it fell because of me.
I'm so useless,dead useless.I promised myself that i would never let another tear fall,promised to never bury my head in my arms and weep again.

Yet again,my eyes are once again clouded,and i'm torn to make a choice.One that i should have done so at that time,when it was so obvious.

I'm so weak,so frail...but i'm just another mere mortal.They say heroes even heroes have the right to bleed,and tears are but a sign that you're still human.

I have decided,i know i will stand back up again.I would smile,because it happened,and because i know that there would be this chance that one day a person who truly loves me would come walking by.And i know,without a single doubt,i would treasure her much more than ever,and she would be the luckiest girl on earth.

His arms ever so good to sink your teeth in when your frustrated or just plain bored.
Just today he did another Dominic.

Teacher:This question is so easy,how come you don't know how to do?

Dom:If i knew how to do i won't be here right,i'm here for remedial cause i failed ok.

Teacher: ...

Who do you gay with?Timothy of cause!

What will i ever do without this three retarded people,there to cheer me up when i was down in the pits,wallowing in sorrow.Lame as they are,they'd somehow know when to sit there and listen when the need arises,and when to go crazy(which is probably most of the times when we're awake).You guys are the most dependable pillar of strength when the one that i depended on crumbled.I love you guys,and for ben i'd continue to love him so as long as i get to bite his arm. =D

Burnt out,exhausted and school seems to get longer and longer.Soccer game yesterday,and my class miraculously won 2 nil!Lady luck must have been smiling on us,and i can't help but pray she smiles like crazy tomorrow.

And i've come to realise that in whatever games i played,there's some injury waiting to be picked up.Got that freaking ugly abrasion on my knee as a souveneir from basketball,and a twisted ankle as emblem for soccer.=(

My life is upside down,now that somehow my chairperson thought i was from some uniformed group and i'm down for National day marching.With practically no experience at all in marching or understanding the commands,this greenhorn kinda made a fool outta himself.Left,Left,Left rite left.....then the girl in charge gave me the kind of "are you for real" look and asked if it had been a long while since i marched.I gave a weak smile,while my "bestest" pal lock bin shouted from behind "He's a slacker la,been to ncc for one training only!" in what apparently seemed like a bid to "save" me.Totally regret not backing out,and i half hate my chairman now for making that freaking mistake.

The only thing i probably did was to entertain a bunch of girls,whom giggled as loudly as dominic's burp.I seriously wished there was a hole to hide in,and bury myself when i saw they were timo's canoeist friends.Bet my whole week's allowance he'd hear from them and i'm gonna have to endure his sarcasm yet again.It's time to start praying things are gonna get better and hope i don't do something retarded like drop the national flag on the actual day.ARGH,nightmare!!

`I leave it in your hands,and this will be unfolded with your every action.Call me a bastard,i no longer care.Make it or break it,hold it or let it slip through,it's up to you cause my tears has dried up,and my patience thinning.

..is what i have to say.

Days stretch on longer than ever,and weariness growing ever stronger.
School's almost becoming a torture,almost unbearable.
Life's becoming sad,and it's time i changed it.
For better or worst,it's time.
Heroes bleed yet don't necessarily have happily ever after endings
And villians aren't always burnt at stakes.
It's gonna change,it will.

Time flies,it really does.It's 17th again,and i still remember exactly a month ago i was there that night,half devastated.It's crystal clear,not vivid,almost like yesterday.Ring at her doorstep,and me walking away.

And so it's been a month already,today i've learnt to fold a heart.Half of me wanted to fold hearts and write a note to let her know i stilll remember.Half of me just held back,probably from yesterday.
The reason why which you gave,was exactly the same as the last time.And the last time that lie was told,it was with malice,and pure deceit.This time round,i hesistated,a paused moment as i read through the message.Uncertainty and with the painful memory flooding back,unstirring every emotion and thought.For a moment the scar grew into a fresh wound bleeding once again.

It's hard to find faith and trust when it's gone,trust me i know.It's hard,but since when did that deter me and persuade me to give up.Since when did anything stop me from what i truly want?Nothing,except for when i truly lose the driving force and motivation for it.I will find back the faith,i will build back the trust.I will.

Went to gym,and once again underwent good-willed words for me to quit volleyball and join canoeing.I admit,i was pretty much tempted.For that,i had a driving force,one i know will push me far beyond my limits,a fuel from loathing someone.And the feud between canoeing and dragon boating.A perfect setting,with all the elements i need.But then again,volleyball is something i don't wanna give up just yet.I hate giving up halfway,i hate wasting effort and time.

`I had no reason to give up.Or to walk away.And i still have non.
The desire and force that drove me on,ever so strong never gone.
When i slept at night,i dreamt we walked down the aisle with you.
When i woke from my dream i felt the love for you burning within.
Those were the reasons why i held on and never gave up.
That was what i believed in,and that is why i never let go.
It would stay that way,until the very day i can no longer believe.

Not acknowledged in the slightest way.Merely mentioned and hardly on purpose.
Who am i to you even,definitely not something you're proud of.I'm neither here nor there.
So please tell me where i am.

3 bored fellas and we've decided to take a couple of photos.=D

Who's he thinking of?A girl of cause!
Ben and me!Something we hardly do..
Yup its him again!Gucci hat!

It's stupid i know,but when the first tear fell that night,there was hardly any turning back.
It's nobody's fault,it's mine.I chose this path,i knew one day my tears would fall.I never knew it'd be this soon.I never knew it'd be for this.
I can't say i've chosen,i never did have a choice.I could merely accept the choice i never had a chance to make.
I'm weak,i admit,but still,i've accepted and that should be what matters.
I forgive,but never forget.

When you love with your heart,you'd be writing down your own fate.It could be the happiest thing to ever happen in your whole life,or it could be the saddest.
It's hard to love someone whole and truly,it's harder to be loved back.
If ever you do find someone that loves you so,hold on and never let go.
If you haven't found someone,wait on don't give up.
True love never dies,and you'd never have to cry.




`Although you may not love me, although you may not care. If you shall ever need me, you know that I'll be there. Your love may all be taken, your heart may not be free, but when your heart is broken, you can always lean on me. I'll never stop loving you, I know because I tried. All the oceans in the world, can't hold the tears I've cried.

Every step today was a pain,every smile was a fake.
Words can hardly describe the pain and disappointment.
The night before was but a torture,he slept in hope,that he'd wake and find that this was all a dream.

He ran into the darkness,hoping it could hide everything.Shirt soaked,not with sweat,just pure tears.As he ran he screamed in his heart,through the wounds he bled so hard.What did he do,he asked,to warrant something that pierced so deep in thy heart.

He loved with all of himself,in return she broke his trust.This wound so deep,the pain that won't recede.
Tonight he understood the meaning,of how hard it is to cry and to smile at the same time.
Tonight,he cried like a little boy,and bled like a man.
Tonight,he remembered what its like,to try to stop the tears inside,and how it felt to lose something deep in his heart.

It didn't matter that they said he never treat her well,he knew deep inside what he gave and would give.It mattered when she had no time for him but instead had for some other person.

Today,his world fell apart,this pain so excruciating,that he wished he was dead.

Dear god if you could hear,he doesn't deserve this,no one does,and no one knows it better than you.You are the only other who knows how much she means to him,and how he'd give his life in exchange for hers.Would you grant him his angel,one who would wipe his tears away,and be there for him when he cried.Would you return his smile,and take away his tears?

What if you tried and put in effort to do something hoping it'd be special for someone,but that same person turns around and asked you if you harboured a motive?
Would you continue trying as though it didn't happen or accept it happened.
If somehow you could continue trying,would it be with the same heart as before?

If making it up was to walk away,i would say you never have to ever make it up.

What if a sorry or a simple gesture that said it never came?
Did pride get in the way,or it didn't seem to bother you that you said what you said,did what you did?

It takes time to build the sturdiest bridges,time to forge the sharpest swords,time to nurture,time to love selflessly.
It also takes time to repair any bridge or building,time to sharpen any sword,time to make things right.
But then again time without effort,is but words without action,the sea without water.

After all that happened,these two were the least that should be and gladly forked out.But what good is there,when there's just one hand,how do you feel the spaces between the fingers?It was that simple,and it is that simple.What good is everything if you can't even bother to reply?

Today sucked,well the only thing i looked forward to on tuesdays,are the lectures,and p.e.Yes p.e,cause we all get to hate and curse the teacher together in one breath,in a way it forges a bond between us all.Today was a little different,for the first time i wished i had chinese oral today instead of tomorrow.Before you say i've changed for the good,it was actually more of having econs lesson when ben and timothy could skip it and the idea of that was hard to swallow.
Stayed back again like yesterday,same reason as always,and like most of the times i felt it was dumb.But still it's a gesture from me that i cared still.Anyway played soccer,and i utterly regretted that,for all the euphoria i got from scoring,a thigh injury ruined everything.To add salt to my wounds,i was told tomorrow's the 2.4km run for napfa.I can almost hear Mr nordin saying "Horrible,(with head shaking and his shitty accent)verrry horrible...I thought i told you people to run during the holidays?You people are verrry weak!"

On way home,it looked like i was some lazy shitass who couldn't be bothered to send his girl home.Bah its ironic in a way,and totally unfair to me,explaining myself would be dumb and futile,and it'd be making another look bad.Anyway took a bus with my friend,and somehow it just ends up on the "your girl" topic,and without fail it never fails to be demoralising.I'd never fail to look and feel like shit when people ask me that question,awkward and embarssing.I shall never broach on that topic with guys again,demoralising and ends up with the same conclusion without fail.