Day Forty Seven

Dear Boy,

I still miss you.
(guess I'd rather hurt than feel nothin' at all)...

Day Forty Six

Some things are just worth waiting for. Like a letter that makes you want to cry and smile at the same time.





:)

Day Forty Five

Sometimes I feel like I'm at a dead end. We have nowhere else to go and yet, we're still trying to push forward, albeit at a much slower pace. I could liken our friendship now to a relationship that is slowly stopping the engine, but I fear that what we have even now will come to abrupt stop. The thing about gradualism is that you don't feel or realise a single thing until change becomes evident. That's why the fable talks about the frog that is being slowly boiled to death not realising because the temperature of the water is being slowly increased. That's why when we step into water, we slowly get used to the temperature by gradually submersing ourselves. I fear that in a few weeks time, I will be thrown into the deep end when he returns to med school and has new things that will take up all his time, while I will still be languishing at home, waiting for university to start.
I should step into the water now, under my own volition, before I get pushed in.

Day Forty Four

When I'm feeling crap, I find it best to dissect all my emotions and try to find the root cause of them.
Disappointed: because he didn't return a greeting. However, he no longer has an obligation to do that sort of stuff any more
Sad/miffed: because our conversations are lifeless

Bottom line: because I can no longer say things, actions are the only way to show how I feel (still). It's just disappointing that he doesn't show them so it makes me think that I'm just barking up the wrong tree. However, I also understand why he can't afford the time to mollycoddle my emotions - he's stressed over something else. It's a conundrum. I just wish that someone was around to look after me and listen to every single thing that makes me down because at the end of the day, sometimes I wonder if I've just got to take what's mine and just leave. But I know I can't leave - not just yet because the thought of him with someone else terrifies me like a nightmare.

Day Forty Three

Touch him darling, and I'll make you pay.

Day Forty Two

Stupid brain. Why, oh why must you continue to pine? Boxing Day is the day where shopping is meant to take away the ills of the world for just one day. I should be stuffed and full by now by consumerism and yet, I still feel slightly empty inside.

Day Forty One

Christmas is the time that you spend with loved ones. The one I love(d) is an island away.
I actually don't know if I love him any more. Romantic love, no. Brotherly love, not quite either. The complete love, possibly. The type that also has a sub section that allows me to also want to kiss him too.

Day Forty

All I want for Christmas is you.

Day Thirty Nine

Sometimes I wonder if I'm just going through the motions and if it's all just a mindscrew. Like I should know that I should mourn. So I mourn without wanting to move on.
I also wonder what goes through his mind. Every relationship is divided into three parts:
- talking and hanging out
- sexual
- affectionate
I miss affectionate the most. And I don't know if I just want to keep talking in hopes that he'll give that part back to me one day.

It's funny how our relationship is now. He described it as this:
one person: "Hey, where are you?"
the other person: "I'm still here"
I just need to believe that he still is until one day we both don't need each other any more.

Day Thirty Eight

I've got a tight grip on reality, but I can't

Let go of what's in front of me here
 
I know you're leaving in the morning when you wake up

Leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream, whoa.

Only time will heal. But sometimes I don't want to heal,
not just yet. It's sad, but I'm also quite content with
longing. I guess once that stupid cupid enters your life
you're loathed to let it leave again.

Day Thirty Seven

It's odd that the only two things that I'm looking forward to are:
1. Wednesday
2. Getting my letter
And both happen to be related to him.

Sometimes I wonder that if he no longer fulfills the reciprocal requirements (i.e. by being sensitive to my feelings), then perhaps it is no longer my duty to be understanding. My feelings about him are like a see-saw and most of the time, the seat is falling down - on my side. Sometimes I wish that I could stop caring instantly so that I am longer burdened by trying to make him feel okay or no longer disappointed whenever he lets me down. It's hard because I'm used to having his shoulder to lean on when things get rough. But now he's the one that's making me feel sad. It used to happen sometimes during our relationship, but he used to also be the one who made me happy again. And now, he has no duty to make me feel okay, so the see-saw seat is now perpetually plummeting down to earth because no one's there to catch me.

I can't spend the entire day moping and feeling sorry for myself. But I'm also not okay.

Day Thirty Six

It's like a car... After talking to you, I'm all good for a few days. But then the tank runs empty and I have no choice but to wish you were still around.
Sometimes I just grin for no apparent reason, but usually it's because I remember something particularly funny. Like today, I was listening to Taylor Swift and all I could think of was you drumming along on Band Hero in your fluffy dog slippers.

It's odd baring myself like this. But I'm doing for two reasons:
1. It's an account of how a break up feels like for future reference should I go through this again
2. People don't want to hear about my misery and I don't have any inclination to force feed it down their throats. If I don't have a way of venting, I think I would dissolve into a puddle of tears.

Day Thirty Five

I can't stay mad at you for long. You know how to reason with me and also, because you know exactly what to say always.
It's always hard to rage when you describe me as the antithesis to your brother's girlfriend. It's hard to think about myself and my own needs when you say proudly that I am understanding and that is what makes you like me so. For now, I can't think of anyone else who is more deserving of my understanding. So I guess you can keep my feelings for a little while longer.

Day Thirty Four cont,

-insert further rage-

Day Thirty Four

-insert rage-

Day Thirty Three

I still have to logic myself into excusing you. The process is painful because I'm logicking myself into letting you put me back a few spots in your list of priorities.

Day Thirty Two

One day, I will stop chasing you.

I'm going to get better someday.

Day Thirty One

Today, exactly one month ago, I knew that the end was coming the next day. It's odd that he is exactly where he was one month ago, working. Fitting, even. One month ago, I was crying in the backroom, but trying not to let him know that him working on our last night together affected me so.

One month ago, we went out on our last date at Plato, enjoyed our last creme brulee, laughed over our favourite moments of our relationship, listed the highlights that made us work as a couple.

One month ago, someone still loved me. I wasn't alone, just yet.

Day Thirty

Today would've been another month. Today was also a test - but I figured out that he's still perfect to me and until that feeling passes, I won't be ready to date again.

He's still my best friend and it's good that way. He's like the habit that I don't want to quit just yet.

Day Twenty Nine

You're still my safety net.

Day Twenty Eight

Is it odd to be happy because of our friendship/pseudo relationship?
Actually, I'm just smug because I know we broke up over a good reason. And I laugh at those who break up because of petty fights and disagreements, as bitter and nasty as that may sound.

Day Twenty Seven

Ah, idle hands make mischief. Still unhappy on the odd occasions, but I'm slowly getting better.

Day Twenty Six

I've decided that I want someone who will want me as much as I want them. Someone who is willing to put aside things, someone who wants to share about their day, talk to me, not just do it because they don't mind doing it or because they haven't got anything else to do. Someone who is willing to have their life so intertwined with mine that they don't mind the fact that we're together always.

Day Twenty Five

But I still miss you like I missed you yesterday.
It's odd... In my mind, I think I've finally gotten around to re-wiring him as my ex. And I'm grateful that we're still talking, although I'm certain that once we're over each other, we'll probably stop talking. It's weird because I don't know how to treat him as a friend, as opposed to my boyfriend. Say we were friends and never were a couple. Would I be willing to visit him in Christchurch because our friendship is still worth it? Or am I only wanting to visit him because I still hope? One day when we're just friends and no longer missing each other, will our friendship be enough to keep us talking?

So, no. I'm not over him and won't be for a very long time. The day I'm truly over him will be when:
1) I don't mind the idea of him with someone else
2) I can honestly pick someone else over him
3) he isn't able to make me cry

Day Twenty Three and Twenty Four

I don't love you like I loved you yesterday.

Day Twenty Two

Working makes the pain less. But knowing that he wants to talk also makes the pain less. So I don't know what's really responsible.
I shouldn't think. He doesn't think. That's how he copes. But what happens when one day you start thinking and you're really not over that person? Better to realise now the cold reality than to continue wishing until you just wane away.

N.B. I've decided that him dying would be much worse. Just because I would never want to wish ill upon him.

Day Twenty One

Sometimes I wonder what is worse: the grief of never seeing someone again, or the grief of knowing that you will never share the same affection for each other again. At face value, if someone you loved were to die, it would seem much worse than never talking to them again. But at least you know that they're never going to walk down the street hand in hand with someone else, that they're not going to fall out of love with you.
I feel sad when I don't talk to him. But the next morning after I do talk to him also makes me sad because missing him is almost as bad as not being able to talk.
So begs the question: what would hurt less? Talking to him or never talking to him again?

For the nightmares of yesterday become the horrors of reality.

Day Twenty

My life is so empty and alone.

Day Nineteen

This is ice.
It cracks
you slip
but I drown.

Across the Nile;
a flood of tears
which rolls through
the barren land.

But I am alone.

Day Eighteen

I hate walking through town and seeing happy couples, hand in hand, arms intertwined. Happiness is subjective. You're only happy if someone else is miserable because there's an inbalance. If we were all happy, then no one would be sticking out from the crowd, ergo, no one would be comparatively happy.

The world should be just shades of grey without flashes of colour. Because then we all would be blissfully ignorant of the fact that things could be better.

Day Sixteen and Seventeen

It still aches. It's like a smouldering wreck and every once in a while, something is still burning brightly. The odd ember when you hear a certain song, when you remember a fond memory.
Talking is the only way I'm coping but it leaves me strangely hollow at the same time because I want more than words.

It's not a matter of wanting to give more. It's a matter of not being able to.