oh, pathetic me
well. it’s the holidays. sucks, really, because the only thing i do now more than ever is to cry. it’d be nice to have somebody’s shoulder to cry on, but if all amos ever did was to tell me to ’stop being such a cry-baby’, i don’t suppose that’ll ever materialise. if my own (ex-)boyfriend couldn’t be bothered with me, it’s quite unlikely anyone else will. it’d also be nice to have a listening ear to rant to, but i’ve already told whatever i’ve been brave enough to say, so there’s no point in repeating my story, because im pathetic enough, and i don’t need to make myself more pathetic than i already am.
listening to j’s story was nice. cw went all the way down to her hall on the morning of her last paper, at 7am, just to deliver honey stars, to make up for the night before when he made her upset. he did that despite the fact that he had his own exam the next day to study for. i couldn’t help feeling a little envious, but happy for her all the same.
he said i was never there for him. i say, why should i, when you weren’t there for me in the first place? well obviously my girlfriends will agree with what i said, although in their minds they might be thinking ‘but you should’ve done more too, you can’t push all the blame to him’. if that’s the case, thank you, dearies, for not speaking the truth, because i don’t think i could bear it. well, perhaps now i can.
why can’t i just move on? i hate myself for being unable to. im tired, in all senses of the word.
your thoughtless words
excuse me,
‘cos i’ve mistaken you for somebody else,
somebody who gave a damn,
somebody more like myself.
life is hard
eating last night’s leftovers for lunch + reading and annotating notes + sneezing every other minute + listening to third symphony mvt3 mesto + a mind prone to wander…= major emoness
whine on
i thought sleeping would make it all better. instead, the cold has gotten worse, so has the sore throat, and im feeling very sleepy, which indicates oncoming fever again. sucks. i’ve still got two more papers
tomorrow and the day after, how the hell am i going to do them when all my body really wants to do is sleep? sucks, i say.
god. im becoming one of those whiny bitches i hate, those who always complain about how they’re always worse off in grades, in workload, in health, in finance, in relationships, in EVERYTHING. i guess now that im one of them i know how it feels. nobody wants to give you the attention you need, and you get even whinier and it’s a vicious cycle. ok i need to get out of this. i’d much rather be the one telling whiny bitches to get a life than be the whiny bitch.
but im sick!
why am i undermining my own words?
freefalling
i think my illness stems not from any physical malady, just my body mirroring my emotions. so i’ve had fever, headache, runny nose, sore throat and food ejection. all i can deal with, except the food ejection. the heaving is tiring enough, yet i still have to clean up after myself. and the worst thing of all? i haven’t even lost any weight from all that. well, this is sounding pretty melodramatic. should make a movie out of my story. i’ll write a script and send it to junfeng and see whether my story’s worth his directing skills.
i haven’t any mood to study. every paragraph or so i just break down and cry. i know amirahh has said to call her when im feeling upset, but i don’t have anything to say over the phone. i’ll probably end up sobbing over the line, which is 1. a waste of money, and 2. a waste of time. i did that to amos before, and not only did i not get any sympathy, i got 1. snores, 2. scoldings, 3. name-callings, 4. things which made me cry even harder, 5. hunged up upon, 6. canceled calls, god, the list goes on and on. perhaps i cried so much he couldn’t be bothered (but you might ask why).
honestly, i can’t be bothered with myself either. it feels like i’ve already let myself go, free-falling into the abyss of self-pity (always a dangerous situation) and academic probation (god, what a nightmare). im not even studying (or rather, i can’t. but that can be argued). i’ve finished the house’s supply of panadol, the fever’s gone but the headache remains. what do you call that? analgesic-rebound? oh it doesn’t matter. why would getting the terms right matter when i don’t even know what dickens is talking about. (‘why should’ will make a better sentence, i think) what am i talking about? well perhaps my current state of mind is that of a drunk. i wonder how the mind of drunks work. shall ask yongkiat after his exams.
yongkiat has been saving grace. you know how when people know you’re upset, some ignore you (which is how i usually respond, which is probably why i don’t deserve people caring for me when im upset), some feed you with empty words (not deliberately, i should think), some offer [questionable] advice (again, probably not deliberate), but yongkiat rather breaks out of all that. he knew i was upset, and instead of feeding me the usual, he sent a message listing the chemical composition of my tears. god, i burst out laughing even while crying.
anyway, thanks yenn and amirahh for being my pillar(s) of support… and yenn, work hard on the essay (pls don’t get zero again) and all the best for the exams ya (im sure your brain can withstand more cramming than mine)
a presence
btw, he did turn up in the end, at 1+ in the morning. at least he actually turned up, well-deserving of some praise especially because he’s having exams too. why can’t i think of an example from my own relationship? oh, i forgot, he has to have his beauty sleep.
men are shit
j- says (12:13 AM):
can i just say that the decisions i make now was all due t his actions.
and all i really want is for him t make a trip down here and he’s not willing t.
well i read the msn convo, and it reads the same as my own convo, just different words. he just DOESN’T GET IT. well they never do, do they? it’s like j’s already so upset but he’s saying all the wrong things. well there are some things he said that are in fact exactly the same as what amos says. all goes to show that men are stupid bastards who repeat their mistakes over and again.
oh now
the roaring T-Rex says:
so you’re saying i brought this upon myself
yes, obviously you did, asshole. he’s just as useless as amos. always thinking they are right, not sparing a thought for the girl at all. the solution is mostly something very simple,
j- says (12:47 AM):
why angie why
if he comes down now, i will forgive him.
i will but he’s not even coming here.
something most easily fulfilled, but because their minds are so dense they don’t understand at all. i needed that from amos too, and i gave him examples before, but instead he said those are ‘what kids do’, and he’s ‘grown out of it’. wtf, seriously. he says i was never there for him, then what about the many times he asked me out even when i needed to study but i took time to go out with him anyway? then when i needed him, and called him, he friggin’ snored into the damn phone. oh, surely, that’s him being there for me, because his snores are so soothing. wtf.
im so angry on j’s and my own behalf i can’t even watch crouching tiger hidden dragon properly.
hugs and kisses
i have to wake up 7 hours later, having read none of my notes, instead i stained them with tears. well i’ve tried. i really don’t want to get 2.5 this sem, but i think that’s quite inevitable. i hate myself for being unable to get out of the rut. it’s really not fair to me, and i hate myself for being unable to get over him. it sucks like shit.
since my studies are totally fucked, i shall just hope that my friend’s words come true, that ‘well, we’re singaporeans, we can’t possibly do THAT badly for singlit’. that’s true. the thing about lit is that you can always throw it back at the teacher, citing reasons like what makes you think your interpretation of this piece is more privileged than mine, because we’re all singaporeans, and since we’re not homogeneous, i know a different Singapore from you, thus my answer should be given the same respect etcetc. that sorta thing. to which..well he can reply in a myriad of ways, and the argument’d go on and on until he threatens to fail you or something and you can either back off or stand up bravely for your rights blah blah.
i shall now investigate the reason(s) for the failure of the relationship. i have already commented on miscommunication, so this time i shall concentrate on the physical aspect of the relationship, because i believe that physical contact is every bit as important as communication. i’ll give MY side of the story, as i have always done, because it’s my blog.
love manifests itself in words, but the touch is exceptionally important as well because it comes in when one is at a loss of what to say. this is obviously seen in how people hug each other or pat the griever’s backs at funerals or other less tragic events because words fail. well, in love, the same thing happens, which is why the cliche ‘kiss and make up’ exists. but i don’t kiss amos, nor do i let him kiss me, because i think kissing is gross due to all the saliva and bacteria. it sends a fairly unpleasant shiver down my spine whenever i see people kissing passionately, be it on the street or in the movies. i think of bacteria being exchanged and that is very off-putting.
the next best thing is hugging. i love hugs, i love giving and receiving hugs. but i do not hug amos because he gets a hard-on when i hug him. which is very off-putting too. most of the time i get pissed and i walk off. i am then too disgusted to touch him nor do i allow him to touch me after that. frankly, i’d rather he watch porn and masturbate himself to oblivion than get a hard-on while hugging me (although people have argued that the more porn one watches, the hornier he/she tends to be because they’re, well, well-trained).
so, a relationship without any touch at all, is, in my opinion, a dysfunctional one. i know he can’t speak well (don’t get me started on that), so i wouldn’t mind if he makes up for it in some other ways, such as hugging me. i think hugging communicates care and love, because you are so close you can sense the body language (such as if he’s tense, he probably doesn’t really mean it, if he’s relaxed and ‘open’, you know he’s friendly, if he holds you tight, you know he likes you or that he needs you) i’ve had none of that thanks to his inability to control himself (you could argue perhaps he can’t help it, i wouldn’t know) and since he says the meanest things, it’s no wonder the relationship fell apart.
the use of endearing terms, such as dear, darling, dearest and sweetheart, while not considered as physical contact, comes rather as a set with it. i think it makes someone feel loved when used at the right moments, and in moderate amounts. +-10 uses of endearing terms in close to five years of a relationship can hardly be called ‘moderate’. yes, i am so anal i actually took note, and, as you can see, it isn’t too hard to.
admittedly, i have remained cold and stiff during the rare times when he tried to hug me. but i could hardly relax when i know what’s coming. trust me, during those times i would’ve thrown myself into his arms if he could just control himself. but he couldn’t, so too bad for me.
