All I want to do is talk to you and have you reprimand me for crying. I always walk into your room thinking I’ll see you under the covers. Then, I walk into the bathroom and see that stain on the floor and it hits me, you’re not here. You won’t be here when I fall in love, walk down the aisle, and have my own family. I won’t be able to hear your voice, or hug, or kiss you. I will always have tears down my cheeks when I remember. I wish it were the beginning of February again.
]]>There is something to be said about people who draw attention to themselves effortlessly and those who need to be proactive to get people to notice them. You know, people who need to talk a little louder or smile a little wider. I have nothing against either, but I would much rather be the one who does not need to throw myself at someone to get his attention. Because in an ideal world, I want to be the one whose heart is won over and not the other way around. I’m a modern woman who wants to be wooed traditionally.
The thing about being an outsider if that you never know what’s really going on. And though you only wish for what’s best, you know that the decision and the choice will never be yours. But what do you do when people seem to dig themselves into a hole deeper and deeper? How do you tell them that it’s going to be tougher to get out of it. After everything is over. It’s going to be worse than before. How do you help people who can’t seem to help themselves? And what gives you the right to tell them, anyway?
]]>I’ve been having bouts of feeling inadequate. No particular reason. Just random signs that seem to tell me, “Hey, you’re just not good enough, kiddo.” And I don’t know why I’m feeling this way. Is it because I’m turning 25 this year and I feel that I haven’t reached my potential? Is it because at almost-25 I am still single, living with my parents, and going to work as if it were just school? I used to think that by the age of 25, I’d be planning my wedding already. I’m still a kid learning my way around the world.
]]>Sometimes, you’re in a bad mood and everything is just magnified ten thousand times. The littlest thing can strike a nerve and you go off at someone in an instant. You can’t take that back and I’d like to think that at that precise moment, what you were feeling was valid. And just because you felt that way for just a little bit, doesn’t mean that you forget about it in the same amount of time. My hormones are going haywire but I still feel really bad about it. And I know it’s not just because of my stupid period.
]]>What was I expecting when I sent you that message? You hate that word, don’t you? Or you didn’t like it when I started to. Expect, that is. Well, when I sent you that message, I didn’t expect anything to come out of it. It was supposed to make me feel better—whether you replied or not. But it didn’t. And it didn’t make any difference when you called to say that you were already asleep when I sent the message. It felt like talking to somebody so far away from me. Almost like I was talking to a stranger.
]]>You always said my happiness is what’s important. If I was happy, then you’d be happy, too. Well, I’ve realized that my happiness won’t happen like this. And if you really wanted me to be happy, you’d know that this isn’t how to make me happy. I’m really just tired of being told that I don’t know what I want and that I’m not ready. I’m done pretending to be happy in this situation, because really, I’m not. And you know what, if you’re a friend like you say you are, you wouldn’t put me under this kind of stress.
]]>I don’t understand anymore. Maybe these days I’m just trying to convince myself that I do. When you talk to me, I freeze up and never know what to say. Because in all honesty, I just want to stay quiet and sit beside you. No need for words, because I’m tired. I’m tired of trying to understand why it has to be—or not be, for that matter. I’m tired of this stupid tugging at my heart that I’ve been ignoring because I’m scared of losing this “friendship.” But what can I do? You’re the “always friend” and nothing more.
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It’s one thing to be honest, but there’s something else called being tactless. I’m all for telling the truth but with caution. Have you ever considered the feelings of the person you’re opening the floodgates to? What if this person would rather not know? Have you thought of that? Or maybe you’re too busy rejoicing because for once, it’s a point for you. In your head, what you really want to tell me is, “I told you so.” And after all has been said, you have the nerve to ask me how I feel. How would you feel? I’m upset.
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I don’t think I can ever live alone. It’s either I live with
my parents for the rest of my life—or until I get married, maybe. Another
option would probably be to move in with my aunt and cousin—both are still single.
I didn’t have to go to work today, and I’ve been sitting in an empty house the
whole day. Except for the quick chats with my dad, it’s been pretty quiet. I’ve
already gone through a bag of chips, which of course I had to dip in a big jar
of Nutella. Me alone? Not good.