// I write you read but don't expect much

Friday, February 15, 2013

Foolishly hopeful to the last minute, only to be disappointed. Yet again.

the boy with a dead heart. posted at | 2:05 AM |
Friday, February 1, 2013
Just a fool.

It is during such moments that I wished that you were still around - to provide me with the assurance & comfort that I so badly need.

the boy with a dead heart. posted at | 11:53 PM |
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
I conclude 2012, in memories of C.

I am typing this entry with a mixed feeling, and a heavy heart no less. I reckon it will be my last, since its purpose is to sum up 2012. Do not think that it is premature for me to do so, for it isn't. In my opinion. what should have happened, have. What didn't happening, though desired, wouldn't. What more can I ask for? What more should I expect? What more can I be thankful for?

A while back, I was talking to a friend. In the midst, I commented, "2012 is coming to an end. Time flies. What are you thankful for?" The question was routed back to me, and it set me in thoughts. I wouldn't say that 2012 was bad to me. I graduated, decently. I went on a graduation trip to Taiwan - a country that I have always wanted to visit. And then there were that few more things that I am grateful for which I shall not mention here, at least not in this open space.

Nonetheless, I was in a dilemma. I was unsure if I was grateful, or actually resented the fact that C was part of 2012. My 2012. In the end, I said, " ... and I'm thankful for C too." The response received was negligible. Yet it set me thinking. Why was I thankful for C? Why would I be thankful towards a person whom created a fantasy that I desired, only to single handedly take it away? Why? I asked CN, and the reply was, "Because C allowed you to feel something that you have never felt before."

In retrospect, C came along at the right moment; at a point crucial to the awakening of a dead heart. And for what it was worth, this entrance made me effortlessly dropped what was previously bothering me. That was a catalyst to momentarily happiness, and a broken heart. Who would have expended the effort to type in proper English, no less, only because one commented that it was his penchant? Who would have kept so quiet during conversations, only to respond when queried about the silence, that it was because full attention had to be given to remember all details? Who would have waited up till late for that short phone call, only because the other party was busy with his FYP? Who would have asked so much, and shared so much to keep spark sparkling? Who would?

I cannot ask for more, I really can't. And if asked to list the three things that I will take with me, it would be that kiss on the forehead (only because I liked it), that morning itself, and the memories. Then of course, it came to an end. An end that I predicted, and feared. After all, I entered into this fantasy with the belief that it will, like the others, fail. It did. The change then ensued. Actions previously directed to make me smile were then directed to irk me. The warmness in the attitude died, being replaced by hostility. The silence which one translated to attention translated to boredom, and a lack of interest. Eventually, I pulled out. I called it quit.

Months have passed. 9 months in fact. At time, I still feel melancholic when I think about it, crying myself to sleep. But I never blamed C. Or rather, I didn't really did. One would say that 'love' would have blinded me to the flaws. It wasn't, for there was no 'love', per se. It was the concern, the interest, the attention and the actions, albeit short termed, that made me felt. It was -in short- that feeling.

For the last time, I miss you, C. You have transformed me to the boy with a dead heart. But all these will not matter. Because the moment existed. You may not read this. You will not know how I feel. You may be oblivious. You may not care. But all these will not matter. Because the moment existed.

"These autumn days will shorten and grow cold. The leaves will shake loose from the trees and fall. Christmas will come, then the snows of winter. You will live to enjoy the beauty of the frozen world, for you will eventually mean a deal to someone. Winter will pass, the days will lengthen, the ice will melt in the pasture pond. The song sparrow will return and sing, the frogs will awake, the warm wind will blow again. All these sights and sounds and smells will be yours to enjoy. This lovely world, these previous days."

(Adapted from Charlotte's Web)

Today, I have moved on, or am moving on. In a way, I disappointed myself when I recently replied to C's random (mind-fuck) text, but I'm glad that I maintained the last bit of dignity within, resisting the urge to probe. As I prematurely conclude 2012, I tell myself to look back at the three things, to leave the sorrow behind, to smile, and to press on.

As I prematurely conclude 2012, I do not know if I will have the ability to believe again, to trust again. As I prematurely conclude 2012, I thank, in my heart, those whom need to be thanked.

I am typing this entry with a mixed feeling, and a heavy heart no less. I reckon it will be my last, for I have summed up 2012. But apart from that, I this will be my last entry because there will not be a need for me to update a non-audience or document anymore sadness.

[W]hen he recovered from his emotion, he spoke again. "Why did you do all this for me?" he asked. "I don't deserve it. I've never done anything for you." You have been my friend," replied Charlotte. "That in itself is a tremendous thing ..[.]"

(Adapted from Charlotte's Web)

I conclude 2012.

the boy with a dead heart. posted at | 12:23 AM |
Monday, November 12, 2012

I often asked myself if you remembered.
Perhaps this question was heard by those up there;
and I got my reply.

Bittersweet.

It has been 12 days.

the boy with a dead heart. posted at | 12:39 AM |
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Unannounced.

Mixed feelings.

the boy with a dead heart. posted at | 12:34 AM |
Wednesday, October 17, 2012

I'm so tired, in all aspects.
I really am.

the boy with a dead heart. posted at | 11:58 PM |

Do you know?

Imu, badly.

the boy with a dead heart. posted at | 1:04 AM |