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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.
I hate to admit defeat. I am a competitive person. I want to reach the top.
And I don't ever want to ask for people to support me on my way. It would take away from my personal glory, my own accomplishments in life.
However, people like my mother and a few good buddies of mine have helped me throughout my entire life. They've stuck by me through thick and thin, in both times when I was very sure of who I was, and times when I was lost and confused. At this stage in my life, they only know all too well to simply wait for me to ask them for help if I need it. I manage to find trust in them somewhere inside me because they've proven for years that they can help me. I ask them because I'm not afraid of being disappointed by them. They live up to their roles as my closest family and friends.
At university, let's just say that there are a group of people that I have been trying to work with for the past four months to bring together something really fun, really educational, and really good. I put my heart and soul into this little project, and on my return to university from my winter holidays, I was extremely, extremely disappointed to find out that the other people in this group just didn't want to do it anymore. They gave up. And they don't give a rat's ass about what I feel.
And that is exactly why it is so hard for me to trust and depend on people I've just met. I cannot tell you how many times I've been disappointed by the people around me. Too often in my life, different people have done things to demonstrate how they are just so flawed and unworthy of my trust. I wish people kept the same personalities throughout your entire time of knowing them. But the real world makes it work differently. Friends become enemies, and enemies become friends. A social life filled with good friendships is a slippery slope on the summit of a mountain, and although reaching the highest point on that mountaintop gives you a great sense of pride, the natural inclination is to go downwards, because hiking up to the peak requires too much hard work.
One of these days, I'm going to stop giving new people I meet a chance. One of these days, I won't trust anyone new ever to help me with certain matters, because I feel like nobody can get things done right besides me. I'll ponder this a bit more - and I'm sure I'll come to some conclusion as to why I should give people chances.
But for now, for just these next few minutes, I want to be mad - mad at the people who let me down, mad at the inconsiderate, self-indulgent, power-hungry people that don't even care. It's not fair. It's not right.
There was a time when I had the chance to date this beautiful girl six years ago. She was Australian-Chinese, and we initially met in our first year of high school. When you spoke to her for the first time, you would know in your mind to place her in the 'cool' clique at school. She simply had that charm about her, in the fragrance of her hair, the apparent sincerity of her smile, the chipmunky cheerfulness of her voice, her whole aura, a kind of biological femininity that was especially crafted for luring male companions, for enticing men, but her kindliness and immediate congeniality not necessarily indicative of you two strangers turning into friends, or becoming something more.
I, on the other hand, went into high school open-minded, and lacking any predetermined social standing. I was one of those kids that had the potential to end up a studious nerd, a lonesome bully, a suicidal emo kid, a regular Joe, a friendly Tom, an outrageously gay socialite, a muscular jock, or one of those guys that are just as clingy as their girlfriends and that never hang out with anyone else because both members of the relationship are too mutually preoccupied with having to attend to each other's needs and wants every minute of every day.
It was conceivable for me to be that last guy - to end up with that gorgeous-looking girl, to hang out with her and her two younger brothers all the time on yachts and on beaches, surfing, building sand castles, summering with her family on the coast of Maui, Costa Rica or Cebu, to make out during romantic movies and feed each other popcorn, to hold hands as we walked through the school corridors and sat in classrooms, unafraid of displaying our sick, mushy love for each other, to have amazing secret sex in parks and on rooftops that would make anybody jealous if they heard about it, to curl up next to a fireplace on long winter nights, playing Monopoly, drinking hot cocoa and exchanging funny anecdotes, or perhaps sharing our thoughts on what life would be like if it were drastically different from the one we were living...
Despite all the images I could conjure up now, it isn't the way it turned out. The details aren't necessary for you to know (as I am ashamed of said details), but in the end, Jade and I (and everybody else) all attribute the non-existence of this relationship in history to my own foolishness. This could-have-been pairing is just one of those situations that belongs in dreams and alternate realities.
I have always struggled with finding a place in which I belong when I am amongst a large group of people like my class. I don't have membership in any particular clique, nor do I have any one person that really sticks to me wherever I go, or vice versa. It's funny because all my close friends outside my school have that exact same situation in their respective communities.
In my class, I don't really know if I fit in or not. They tell me that they all want me to go on a graduation trip, and while I was there, I could see why they said so. In the course of a day, I was with Group A for breakfast, then swimming in the pool with Group B, checked in with Group A as they were going kayaking, before I went to check on Group C, who were staying in the villas. By the time the sun was going down, I was hanging out with Group D. The day ended with Groups A, B, C, D and E eating dinner altogether, and then dancing altogether, where I mostly chatted with Group B, danced with groups B and C, and left with groups A and E.
Those were arbitrarily generalized, of course, but you get the gist.
But then there are those times when one of the guys wraps his arm around a girl's shoulder because he doesn't like me talking to her. There is that time when they will tell you to go get some rest, and that tomorrow is a big day, instead of letting you join in with their fun late at night. There are times when they will move away from you without inviting you to come along, times when they will place their hand beyond their plate to demonstrate that they don't want to share their food, times when they will close the door in your face, turn on the television, or even fall asleep right in front of you 'cause they don't want to talk to you any longer.
It confuses me, the game of social interaction. I still don't have my answer, my defined place, after spending seven days with my classmates. I suppose I'll never know, now that we won't be seeing each other much anymore, but change is the essence of life itself.
Like I said, my closest friends outside our school's graduation class of 2009 are all similar to me, in that they find it hard to fit in with the people they go to school with. Somehow, I have managed to form a community of people that I trust and love and care about that stretches to the UK and back. All I need is them, and I'll try to talk about them more this summer, 'cause they're very interesting people.
In the end, it doesn't really matter that I'm not in the center of attraction, or antipathy, or attention in general. All that matters is that I have people that I hold memories with that will make me smile wherever and whenever I'm not happy, and that will teach me that life is, actually, kind of alright.
I went out drinking again.
I don't know what to say, because I don't know what happened. I just want to sleep my troubles away, like many people do, but I know I will have to face the consequences of my actions tonight.
However, I love the dancing, and some selected drinks.
I miss my best friend. I wish he was here right now.
He would know what to do.
I love him too much for my own good.
I've lost so much in the past few weeks. I want to look toward my parents and my class for some sort of light, some sort of guidance, because they are the people I'm obliged to be with.
On the other hand, they disappoint me, they hurt me, they piss me off.
Am I expecting too much? Am I too susceptible to insult? Am I too emotional?
Yes, yes and yes.
It doesn't matter.
It all doesn't matter because next year I won't even be here anymore.
I don't just mean in a physical sense.
My personality - I'm radically changing it when I go to university.
Even if you come back to me, even if you regret it, you won't find me there.
I'm gone.
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