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As of right now, I am one of those people - the reason being that I feel that if I were to depend on someone, I will get let down by unmet expectations, or I will develop an overreliance on people, which would eventually lead me to a state where I feel alone, betrayed, and failed. I believe now that keeping everything about myself to myself is individual and strong, and demonstrates independence, maturity and confidence.
The reason I am like this is because I was exactly the opposite when I was a few years younger. I used to be over-dramatic, and I would tell everybody about the shit that was going on in my life because I thought getting people's sympathy and having the courage to 'trust' people with information was an attractive character in a person.
I used to be like that. It wasn't even about telling people I trusted. I rambled on and on in front of anyone that would listen, hoping that by telling just the recounts of my unfortunate life incidents, I could get people to like me. I stopped doing this because I realized I was just distracting myself from the emotions by telling the story again and again, to the point where I wore off my inner pain from telling it too many times.
So should I trust anybody, or do I trust nobody? From both experiences, where neither worked well for me, I think the answer is you have to find a balance. I'm never any good at balance. I like to be ultimate good (even though I'm not), I aim to be the best at school (even though I'm not), and in my conversations with people, I'm either really talkative about my personal life, or I'm not in the slightest. I don't know what to do, because I hate balance. But extreme people have no place in this society. Should you be an open book or a closed book?
My best friend and I always say that these things don't matter to us, but from my perspective (don't know about him), I know I'm sort of in denial. I really would like to appreciate the finer things in life... generosity of spirit, the beauty of nature, the love that stems from family, the sacred bond of friendship, the splendor of the great, wide world...
But cash in my pocket, numbers and letters on a sheet of paper, and loud, techno music playing in clubs full of drunken girls and preying old men, actually evoke feelings within me. I care about these things, even though I know it's not that 'spiritually'... 'up there'.
Oh, well. I guess I'm superficial.
My displays of affection are sometimes viewed as inappropriate, because I think overstepping boundaries shows the courage to be romantic. I am devious and gossipy because I think sharing secrets and meddling in other people's lives means caring about other people's secrets and other people's lives - even though it blatently is snaky and dishonest. The term 'arrogance' crops up occasionally with me, because in some sick, self-centered place in my mind, I think putting up an appearance of confidence attracts people who lack self-esteem and maybe want to get inspired. At times, I'm told that I am insensitive to other people's lives and feelings, and this can largely be attributed to my focus being geared towards romance, or confidence, or whatever I think is completely justified to do.
I've always known that if I kept to my own business throughout my entire life, people would always love me and appreciate me for who I am if I happen to be there sitting beside them in any number of circumstances, but the problem is I just cannot control my innate, human inclination towards social interaction. I have to talk to people. I have to find people to trust. I have to find people to share my life with. And this tendency makes me do crazy, mean things.
And then there are those few that see that I don't mean to mess up anything, that I am actually very accepting of differences, and embracing of common traits, that I am good company, with interesting opinions and a very generous heart. I am grateful to the gods that these people can see past my bullshit, and can forgive me if I wrong them, and can stick by me, even defend me sometimes, while I continue to screw up my relationship with the rest of the world.
Without them, I'd be gone by now, 'cause I really drive myself crazy.
Hmmmmmmmmmmm.
A few people I've asked this question to told me that the whole dating scene is a quest for stability. They want the undivided attention and commitment, and they want to feel the longevity of a mutual loyalty towards one another. But I still find myself asking why? Why not be loyal to a friend, instead? What is it about a wife/husband/girlfriend/boyfriend that is different from, say, your best and oldest friends? Are they not as loyal?
To which the people I asked replied by stating that with your friends, they come and go. Whereas with a partner, you will never feel alone and you always know that they're there for you. You're not meant to be that codependent with friends, who have their own lives to lead. I mean, we imagine ourselves spending the later parts of our life with a wife and kids - not a group of five same-sex chums, right? So, I ask them, what about your relatives? Aren't your parents and siblings just as 'constant' as a partner is? Your family are also always there for you. So what makes a wife/husband/girlfriend/boyfriend any different from, say, your sister, your uncle, or your mother?
Someone answered me by saying that they want to feel be proud of 'working on a relationship'. Establishing a relationship with someone means that you both make suggestions, criticisms, sacrifices, and changes in personality and lifestyle, so as to create something impressive to others, and impressive to ourselves - confirmation of the fact that you can do something in this world, live in a house together and have children, contribute to the national consumerism in your purchases, to the real estate and education industries - while continually helping someone in particular better their life and, in turn, have your own life changed for the better by them. A very good argument, I must say, but I must ask, is that not what we do at school and at work? When we work on individual projects, we make suggestions and criticisms to steer a project in the right direction, we work just as hard, to improve business, and to give back to society. A lot of people can say they love their job. A lot of people can say they feel important in the line of work they do. Just like in a relationship. So what makes a wife/husband/girlfriend/boyfriend different from your co-worker or your company then?
One of my friends responded by saying that they want erraticity. They want to feel that thrill of a roller-coaster-like experience when dating another person. They want to fall for someone, and they want to 'feel', mutually, 'in love', to feel that rush, that sense of having no boundaries. Sometimes it's not about commitment and stability, it's about surprises, a pair of earrings on the pillow, an unexpected candlelight dinner at home, a new car parked outside with a bow tied on top of it.
I'll admit it - my best friend and my mother would never surprise me with a car, but a future wife might. I cannot think of a logical explanation for why this 'rush' is not really why we go into relationships, other than pointing out the reality that predictability often trumps unpredictability in this world. Those tacky surprises are only seen in romantic comedies and sitcoms and unrealistic. A majority of couples that exist around us are definitely not that exciting - teenage couples just go to the movies and fuck, middle-aged couples just have dinner dates and then they might fuck afterward, and the elderly, well, they just... read the newspaper.
Sure, she may be cute, but why not just get a dog?
He certainly is very, very smart, but why aren't you making a move on your professor?
She 'gets' you, you say? Get a shrink, who can psychoanalyze and understand you better than any girl will.
Yeah, yeah, he's really funny indeed - but, are you saying I'm not funny?
These reasons are superficial, all of the ones I've listed so far. Love is something felt, and not thought about. It's hard to explain why people bother with relationships.
One of my friends suggested that it was animal instinct, an uncontrollable compulsion that ultimately is meant to provide you with a mate with whom you can reproduce and propagate your genes with. Can you imagine using that as your answer when people ask you what makes your partner so great?
"Because I want my genetic material to be passed down to the next generation."
Eighteen years and seven months ago, I was born in Hong Kong. My aunt accompanied my mother back to my grandparent's apartment, the 4th flat on the 7th floor. Our family has had 704 for over forty years. That place is not just home to them, but is home to all eight of their daughters too. After my parents got divorced, it became my home.
Somewhere along the way, I had the opportunity, or experience, of living with my father, which turned out to be rather awesome. While he was at work, I spent time with his personable wife and his three fun-loving, laid-back daughters. Dad's house (or Dad's houses as he always moved a lot) was home to me too.
Somewhere along the way, I attained, as lame as it sounds, what you could only describe as a 'best friend'. His parents know me, and trust me, his younger brother knows he can call me in times of trouble. I call their humble Filipino family my home as well.
Somewhere along the line, my mother moved out of my grandparents' apartment, in an act of great motherly sacrifice, to give me my own room - her room - as I was finally becoming a very demanding teenage boy. I've stayed at the place she now owns, and I also call it one of my homes.
Although I had all of these places for my choosing, the one place I always went back to at the end of the night, the home I yearned for when I had other obligations throughout the night, was always my grandparents' apartment. The sense of familiarity and familial attachment, I feel, was mutual. My grandparents wanted me at their place every night as well.
In the weeks leading up to my departure from Hong Kong, I could feel a general sense of internal struggle and hardship every time I was around them. I was working a bartending job too, that often meant I had to leave before lunch time and not return until late in the night. I barely even spoke to them for eighty percent of the summer holiday.
In the final two weeks I was in Hong Kong, I was often waiting for the moment when I would start crying like a baby, missing everything, wanting to stay, suddenly hating the idea of coming to England. I guess I built it up too much in my head that I had tired the emotions out. I remember I cried about leaving my mother's side, and as I sit here typing this, I actually cry. All the emotions that I had when I was alone in my room as I was still going to high school all come back to me the minute I think about it. I cried about my dad. I cried about leaving my 4-year-old cousin. I cried about leaving my job. I cried about leaving my best friend.
But when it finally came to the moment I had to take one last look at my room in 704, I didn't cry at all. I had already shared my final conversations with all of classmates, all of my friends, all of my coworkers, and pretty much all of my family.
And then as I was heading out the door, my grandparents were standing there in the corridor, waiting to send me off. And I could see the bittersweetness that rested in their eyes. I'm crying at the moment, because the love I get from them is so surreal to me, it's so incredible, it's so unbelievable. You would typically think there was a generation gap, and quite frankly there is, and we did not share anything much in terms of conversation or material gifts, but the one thing we did share was that apartment, and our time living together.
In the thirteen weeks I was having my summer break, I had not wept at all. But it was in that moment when my grandmother looked at me with teary eyes, telling me to study hard, make sure to eat healthy, and most important of all, be good, I finally found what what would strike my heart. My grandfather, at the door, told me to put in my best effort at university, and also, to be good.
The simplest lessons you learn in life are the least eloquently expressed, but are said by the wisest people. The words they share are like dying words to me, and it's so sad to think of it like that, but that's the truth. Both are over seventy years old, both have medical issues of their own.
And to hear them say things like that really touches my heart in a uniquely confusing way.
I took the elevator down from the 7th floor.
I put my luggage in the boot of the car and then got in.
I opened the window, and stuck my head out the window to get my last look at them. I waved goodbye until the car went round the bend and a building blocked them from view.
Today, I just received a box with Christmas presents from my 1st aunt, 4th aunt, 8th aunt, and my mother. I was grateful for the gifts, and I loved seeing my mother's handwriting on the cards explaining what everything was and who it was from.
At the bottom of the box, I found a jumper and a card next to it, and it turns out it was from my grandmother. She wrote 'Merry Christmas' in Chinese, and her traditional style of calligraphy was always so distinctive, and it made me picture her writing the card. That's what triggered the idea to talk about this here... I miss my home, so much. I miss my grandparents so much. I can talk to my parents and my friends whenever I want, but I can't talk to them because they don't know how, and it drives me crazy...
Ohh... let me get myself together...
Ahem. Well, my aunts are going to set up a webcam chat thing with them on Christmas Day, so I'll see my beloved grandparents then. It's just been a very hectic final week of university, and I reckon I'm a little stressed out. Good thing I get to sleep tonight without worrying about handing in any assignments.
Crying's good for the soul, it really is. When was the last time you cried?
I've been thinking about getting a Twitter account, but am not entirely sure if I'm up for it. There's a lot of ideas brewing in my mind at the moment, and I think I want to list them all out just so I can then focus on what I want to do. So here it goes:
My profile
I don't like my profile. I don't know why. I'll have to perhaps wipe it all off and start on a clean canvas just to paint the perfect picture I want.
Do you hate it too?
I need to keep posting daily, and I need to sign on to more blog directories and communities (like Twitter). I might possibly do a slight reformatting as well, but nothing too drastic, just maybe add a few more widgets and fun stuff on the side bars. As for The Book, I will need to start picking out fifty posts, what I reckon would sell to consumers everywhere, put them in a single word document, do a bit of editing and formatting. I need to pitch a concept for the cover to my best friend, who is quite skilled in the world of photography and graphic design. My other close friend might also be interested in writing a foreword for me. [To-do reading: the publishing process, marketing and advertising, how to work together with your mom, how to be even funnier]
"If you're going through Hell, keep going."
I sometimes feel like this blog is a bit of a mixture of loads of different blog themes put together. Sometimes, I talk about my travels, sometimes I talk about my past, sometimes I talk about my feelings, and sometimes I just post up a Youtube video. Despite the versatility, I feel that it's not really encapsulating my whole self - I still don't talk about the TV shows I watch, the anthropology course I study, the books I read, or where I want to go in the future. In the end, I meant for this to be about my daily life, and it's just really difficult to stay focused on that, when everything else also occupies my mind. Which is why my solution is going to be...
Anthropology blog
I've been doing quite a lot of reading since I've been here in university, and it's starting to get on my nerves how long it's taking me to actually announce the commencement of this blog. The problem is that I just haven't sat down yet to get started on posting anything on it, and well, now I'm pissed at myself, to be honest. So, I vow to post something on there this weekend, because it has to start some time. And if I just can't be bothered, I know I'll be guilted into doing on Monday morning, I'm sure of it. [To-do reading: nature of anthropological study, history of mankind, Sicilian women, the Kwaio, the Azande, loads of other societies...]
Youtube blog
I have a good friend who lives in Hong Kong, and whenever I ask her what she's doing, more often than not, she's going on Youtube. I, myself, have found a lot of funny, intriguing, thought-provoking videos there, and I thought it would be a good idea to start a blog with this friend of mine. Together, we find one video to post on it everyday, and whoever found the video will briefly talk about why it's worthy of your attention. I'm quite excited about this, but with our schedules, we said we would officially release this blog in mid-February. But anyway, just something to think about for now. [To-do reading: video-sharing rights, joint ventures]
Television blog
I felt like I wasn't being myself with that television blog I started, and consequentially, shut down a couple months back. I was being forced to write about everything when I didn't want to, I wrote reviews for some reason. What I really wanted to write about instead was about the thoughts that TV shows provoked in me, because writers put forward ideas that sometimes make quite an impact on the way I think after watching them. I'll try and get to reopening that one around the holiday season, 'cause I was quite unhappy that that didn't work out the first time.
Travel blog
When I turn 25, my best friend and I are leaving our lives behind to travel the entire world in all its power and beauty for however long it takes. We mean it when we say we'll do it, and everything we're doing in the next seven years is to make that voyage possible. We're learning languages, we're doing a lot of reading, and we're only in university, and soon to be working, so that we can earn money to give us steady beginnings as we get accustomed to the traveler's life when we first set out. In my reading, I've been finding a lot of interesting things about how to prepare for such a trip, and information on a lot of places we might want to visit on the trip. This journey requires a whole lot of planning (seven years worth of it), so perhaps compiling them in a blog as a pre-world trip logbook might interest some readers? [To-do reading: travelogues, other world trip experiences, travel destinations]
Hm. I feel a bit better now, 'cause all of that was getting difficult to keep in my head. All six blogs, I have passion for, but I'm a tad concerned about whether I can handle it. Somewhere in my heart, I know that the hard work will pay off, and that this is one of those things that I'm meant to do in this stage of my life. I play no musical instruments, and I do no sports - this is my talent, and I have to embrace it. All I can do is hope for personal fulfillment, recognition and happiness, so might as well hope for more... might as well dream big.
University is a whole mess of food, drugs, music, sex, relationships, friends and strangers, laughter and tears, kissing and drinking, dancing and groping, randomness, and a little four-letter word, namely Love. It happens rapidly, it happens to just about anyone, it happens everywhere we go, especially in university where all of us have left our homes and our respective high schools, to have a great time, to take hold of the responsibility of taking care of ourselves, and to find what makes us happy - whether it's in terms of our academic interests, the clubs and activities we have a desire to participate in, the careers we have dreamed of all our lives and finally are able to pursue, and of course, the chance to discover like-minded people in an environment that's specifically designed and used for an integrated timetable of education, employment and entertainment, together amongst a diverse deluge of young, passionate, and fun-loving people, from around the world.
Finding like-minded people can be an intricate process for a lot of people. Some people have no problem falling into the arms of another upon meeting them, the fantasy story of love at first sight compels them to simply let loose, float about, and allow the tide of love and life to wash them away wherever the current may bring them.
But for me, it is something of difficulty. It takes a lot of time for me to learn to trust someone. It takes some time for me to get used to people before I can begin to like them. I haven't found someone here after two weeks, but it seems like almost everybody else has paired up already, leaving me the sole soldier on the peripheries of the social circles. I know this is because I am simply not daring enough to take the initiative, to ask people for their names, numbers and perhaps a bit of background.
I wonder all the time, why this has always been the case - why I am not interested in others at first, and I've realized that it is because I like getting the attention first. It makes me self-centered, an attention-seeking kind of guy, and it sort of sucks because I'll never find anyone to be with as long as I retain this problematic attitude.
But I want to be given a chance to be in a relationship with somebody. It has been so long since I have been, and I wonder if it has changed. I love the feeling of devotion, and the pride in being somebody's #1, in being loyal, in being one of a pair, in being ______ and Michael together.
I hate seeing everybody getting Facebook-married, I hate seeing them hold hands, I hate hearing them have sex at night, I hate feeling intrusive and out of place when I'm in the company of a couple.
It's going to take some time for me to readjust my position in social interactions, but I've got to make myself a more approachable and gutsy man before I can be deemed dateable. I've got to stop being so self-involved, if I ever am going to get that chance of experiencing falling in love with someone successfully again.
The UK is not as glamorous as I hoped it would be. It's hoped for, but also expected. And it's just as well. There is no need for me to get caught up in my foolish fantasies of a brand new sparkling study environment in England. At the moment, I can't say that I miss home terribly, but then again, I am unable to say that I am happy to be here either.
The trip was long, but not that I'm complaining. New Zealander air service is pretty good, very hospitable. Their meals weren't stellar or very filling, but at least it was tasty enough, and at least it was food.
I was admittedly too mindful of everything important to do with my time and my money and my traveling that I did not fully appreciate Heathrow Airport or the London underground. I wish we had the time for me to walk a bit slower, and to speculate on Britishness at my own pace, but the friend who welcomed me at the airport, and myself, were too time-pressed, and it was impossible for me to mentally gather my comments on every little thing. I wish we had the time to maybe surface to the streets of London and have a look around. I guess I'll have to find the time alone one weekend to explore London town.
But I really think I should start memorizing the Canterbury region first as best I can, like the badass motherfucker-rememberer I was back in Hong Kong.
The first thing I noticed as I stepped out of the Arrivals gate is that everybody is very English. I guess that's a stupid thing to say, as England is obviously going to seem very English, but it's a fact nonetheless that I took note of in my head as I was making my way to Canterbury. I wish I could put my finger on why that was so noticeable to me initially, but I think summarizing the entire British population's behavior in one specific description is too tricky a task.
Anyway, the dormitory room that I am staying in is really standard. There is nothing special about it, and it will need a lot of touching up in order to make it feel like home. At least I've got beer coasters from my first job, and photos of my family and friends, to pin to my cork noticeboard and remind me of where I came from. I miss my old bartending job. I suppose I will feel differently and a bit better once lectures begin and I can then focus my mind on a routinely focusable process once more.
This room needs books most of all. I can already feel my IQ dropping as I lie in this bare room with empty excuses for bookshelves.
I wish I had someone I knew with me to experience this with. I guess loneliness and acceptance of always being on my own will be something I'll learn really quickly, lest I might enter a state of depression.
Ultimately, though, I like the internal struggle I have going on inside me. It is difficult to be here, to have traveled here all by myself, to study and to live here, and to make a helluvan effort to meet new people and socialize, but it's all towards this bigger, more important goal.
I am not living in reality anymore.
I am living my dream.
Exams are coming up and I need to study hard, with as few distractions as possible. Of course, these diversions aren't limited to blogging, but by taking a break from blogger, I know it'll contribute a little to my focusing on my revision.
I feel quite confident about what I will do in the next month. I'm never one that worries too much about that sort of thing.
The only thing that will really distract me is thinking about my relationships with people. All I've got to do is keep that to a minimum, push those thoughts aside until high school really is over.
I can't wait to leave Hong Kong, but to be honest, I want these last few months to drag out for as long as possible. I am really going to miss the food, and the beaches here, but most important of all, the people.
This is exactly the kind of thing that will distract me for hours.
So, I'm going to end this post here, shut down my computer, take out my maths book, and revise.
I'll be back for a little while everyday, but only for a little while. See you on May 19th or 20th and pray that I get what I deserve. (Don't wish me luck. When the examination paper asks me to explain Faraday's law of induction, I don't want to rely on luck, because I'm not that lucky.)
Bye, friends. Talk to you next time.
Alright, alright, alright, alright, alright, it's too sad, it's too sad to destroy this blog. I went back and read what I wrote in the past few months, and damn, that is a lot of writing, a lot of comments, a lot of readership, a lot of thoughts and memories and experiences to just delete at the quick click of the mouse's slick left button.
I was there, with my finger on my mouse, anticipating what I was about to do, like with my finger on the trigger of a gun to my own head (figuratively, of course, remember my thoughts and my memories?)... I couldn't do it, and I chickened out. It looks like I'm here to stay, with my horribly public displays of self-doubt, indecision, angst, hypocrisy and boastful arrogance. Woo~
I've just been really moody lately, you know? At times, I'm ecstatic, other times, downright dismal. Today, my feelings swung from guilt to gloom and from grief to glee. I don't know. I really don't know what's going on. Perhaps I'm just tired.
I have exams coming up soon, and so April is the month to focus. I need to work hard if I want to start a good new life in London. I can't wait to walk out of the examination room after each exam, knowing all my hard studying went toward some cause. I can't wait to pick out the suit I'll wear at my graduation ceremony and ball. I can't wait to party on the night we graduate, I can't wait to turn 18, I can't wait to finally have fun this summer, the only summer in which I just can't worry about the next year of high school.
I can't wait to immerse myself in time spent with my classmates, my friends, my loves. I can't wait to hug them with all the genuine good intent in my heart it will ever muster up for a long time to come.
I can't wait to move to London, to visit Soho, Camden Town, watch musicals, visit museums, eat at fancy restaurants, shop at flea markets, party at the coolest clubs, eat the most traditional scones and biscuits alongside a nice hot cup of cappuccino...
I can't wait to start my university course, and study what I want, what I flippin' give a damn about. I can't wait to grow up, I can't wait to be an adult, I can't wait to fall in love again, I can't wait to live a new life.
Here's a poem I wrote three years ago. Now that I've grown up a bit and have studied a fair bit of poetry at school and in my own time, I now know that the masterpieces I thought I had written were, in actual fact, crap. This is because I always had this problem of thinking everything had to rhyme. But anyway, I wrote this one after I got rejected by someone I had unrealistic feelings for. Oh, stupid teenage angst...
------------------------------------------------------------
You're the one I saw.
You're the one I met.
You're the one I laughed at.
You're the one I kept.
You're the one I talked to.
You're the one I laughed with.
You're the one I sat next to.
You're the one I ate with.
You're the one I walked beside.
You're the one I played with.
You're the one I really liked. You're the one I studied with.
You're the one I read to. You're the one I wrote to.
You're the one I trusted.
You're the one I listened to.
You're the one I texted.
You're the one I cared about.
You're the one I needed.
You're the one I wanted
You're the one I fell for.
And you're the one I loved.
You're the one that made me happy.
You're the one that made me believe. You're the one that made me excited.
You're the one that made me leap.
You're the one that made me take a risk. You're the one that made me confess.
You're the one that made me regretful. You're the one that left me clueless.
You're the one that made me sorry.
You're the one that made me sad.
You're the one that made me lonely.
You're the one that made me mad.
You're the one that made me vengeful.
You're the one that made me lonely.
You're the one that gave me doubts in my mind
if you were the one and only.
You're the one that saw right through me.
You're the one that just noticed. You're the one that heard about me.
You're the one that just got pissed.
You're the one that no longer talked to me.
You're the one that blocked me out.
You're the one that pretended to laugh
while I cried my sorry heart out.
You're the one that walked away.
And you're the one that stopped calling.
You're the one that stopped talking.
You're the one that stopped trying.
Now, you're the one that I see right through.
Now, you're the one that I'm going to leave.
Now, you're the one that I don't care for.
and you're the one that I don't believe.
Now, you're the one that I don't want.
Now, you're the one that I won't laugh with.
Now, you're the one that I won't listen to.
Now, you're the one that I won't put up with.
Now, you're the one that I won't care about. Now, you're the one that I don't care for.
Now, you're the one that I'm so sick of.
Now, you're the one that I must ignore.
I'm tired of stressing out every night
after each silence and every fight.
I'm sick of you being The One in all of the above.
It's over, I give up, you've lost my love.
You are bound to experience the ever-changing and complex nature of emotions whenever you’re betrayed, hurt, taken by surprise, provoked, abused, or perhaps by a stroke of luck, when someone loves you. People can make you feel all sorts of feelings, whether it be glad or depressed, outraged or frightened, comfortable or highly neurotic. It doesn’t matter whether we’re black or white or yellow, whether we’re in a low, an average or a high social class, whether we were just born into this world, about to leave it, or we're somewhere in between, whether we like to eat nothing but expensive caviar or whether we like to slit our wrists, whether we're personable and likable or rude and rebellious, no matter what our political standpoints, backgrounds, thoughts, morals, dreams and goals or our personality are. We all feel emotions. It's a given.
A lesson we all have to learn is how, when and with whom you need to swallow these emotions. You have to withstand the temptation to express your feelings at some points, even when it annoys you, even when it hurts you deep inside.
We have to learn to swallow them for the benefit of everyone, to save ourselves from embarrassment, to withhold a reputation or an appearance, to avoid argument, to calm ourselves down, to spare someone’s feelings, or to perhaps prevent further sad reminiscence or grief. We keep them in because not everybody can handle the honest truth. We keep them in because it’s not necessarily 'healthy' for you, or for anybody else. We keep them in to protect ourselves from all the people that will abuse you, betray you or deceive you. We keep them in for many different reasons. Sometimes, we almost need to keep them in just as much as we need to, in other times, express them.I hold them in because I know it’s pointless to express them. I feel hopeless wherever I sit, with whomever I see and whenever I hear the selfish, unripe thoughts of those that are close to me. It’s hopeless asking for more. It’s futile wanting something more than nothing. Expressing yourself seems overrated to me.It’s over, my heart is broken and I give up. I'm giving up on revealing to you honestly why I care for you, what I truly want from you, and how I'm hurt by you. I give up asking for what I want. I’m done with being disappointed, underwhelmed and feeling unappreciated and lonely. I’m going to keep them in until we leave. I know I need to learn how to control them with you. I know I need to learn whenever I’m around you. All I need to learn is how to withstand the temptation to be drawn to you, to give you second chances, to let you share with me the reasons why I should continue trusting you with my heart. I'm giving up the whole sharing thing now, because you don't make me feel wanted. Conversely, that's all I ever try to convey to you, that I want you by my side, that I need you. I've given up doing all that now. I'm sick of being a relationship tutor. I've given up and I'm never going back, even when it annoys me...
...even when it hurts me deep inside.
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