been looking into the mirror a lot these days. and
realizing that I’m not an ounce worth her. it’s the
same no self-esteem story all over again.
I seriously don’t know what’s keeping me
so unhappy these days. I’m spending more than enough time with her. but I realise I’ve been thinking of her more. almost the whole of my existence. and
it’s affecting my life. now with the outbreak of some
contagious disease, I worry about her too. and i worry everytime I hear news
about that disease, as it seems to be spreading more and more.
you know when you’ve been somewhere with someone special. then everytime you return to that
somewhere, you think of her, and the time you spent together there. these kind of places are becoming more and more to me. going around with her too much isn’t exactly good – now I think
of her almost everywhere I go, in school, in hostel, even around the vicinity
of my house.
I yearn for a slow and painless
withdrawal. I’m beginning to realise I’m nothing more than a normal friend to
her. I don’t want to feel the pain and hurt whenever she behaves coolly towards
me, and my definition of cold is actually quite screwed, very screwed in fact
if you ask me. I take simple rejections of lunch as something that’ll spoil my
day. depress me. keep me
awake. and I’ll not have lunch.
I am becoming a medical freak case. need psychological help.
revising the criteria that I established to forget someone, to lessen the pain
of being physically with someone, yet know that you can never have her.
(1)
absence of that person
(2)
presence of someone new
in my life
(3)
supportive friends
and what do I have? she’s always around, be it in
my mind, or be it at lessons. there’s no one around
that I can think of that will replace her. and
friends? I no longer talk to my friends about her. it
brings pangs of pain whenever people ask me how’s things between she and I. I just
smile weakly and say we’re good friends.
I keep telling myself that I’m not good
enough for her. you’ve read way too much about why. and that fixation increases every time I look at myself in
the mirror; I quote phantom:
flattering child you shall know me
see why in shadows I hide
look at your face in the mirror
I
am there… inside.
yet my subconscious mind tells, psychos
me, convinces me that there’s no one else around who can care for her as well
as I can, no one else who has grown so much love for her, no one else who
treats her with the same heartfelt dedication. it’s
bloody unfair to all the rest who love her, I know, but I just can’t help
thinking this way. perhaps I’m just steeped too much
in this to get out; the unwillingness to let go because I’ve given up too much.
but I know I can never bring myself out of this fix,
this mess, this i-dunno-what-to-call-it.
and the statement of her close friend long ago still bugs me ever so often.
I asked her if there was anyone going after her,
and the friend refused to tell. she asked “why don’t
you ask me if she likes anyone now?”
and so I did.
and she refused to answer still. said that if she
said no, I’d have uncalled-for hopes. and that if she
said yes, it’ll make no difference since I won’t give up anyway. and I think I’ve
said this before: I was screaming in my heart for her to tell – too bad she
didn’t want to. depressed me told myself it’s a yes.
I’d rather she confirm it for me, so I won’t
need to keeping telling myself yes-no-yes-no, I shall back off-keep on
trying-back off-keep on trying, with that long long
feeling of unrelenting suspense.
I don’t know. don’t
wanna think about it anymore. it’s
killing me too much. tossing around on my bed just
now, I even envisaged the fan dropping on me. then I’d
get hospitalised and bandaged from head to toe. she’d
come visit, stunned by the accident. (or maybe she won’t).
then I’d get real agitated and tell her to go home
because the epidemic might get to her.
sounds like something from the confessions of a madman.
there’s no longer any link between what I write. I think this is a sucky entry. you should have
stopped reading ages ago.
I don’t think she thinks of me half the
amount of time I think of her.
but I don’t call her at home – believe she needs the time to talk to people
she wants to.
I don’t sms her
too often – don’t want to waste her limited sms.
don’t talk to her online often – she’s often busy with other things, and
takes damn long to reply. probably don’t wanna talk.
and I don’t wanna seem as if I’m poking into her
life. she’s told me before she needs lots of breathing
space, personal space, and that’s why I don’t try to push it.
and suffer in silence instead.
dejectium out
31
march 2003
1408
hrs gmt +8