When fate speaks of me
Today I almost cancel on Bryan. I never plan to dis on him but I have this thing about gatherings with lots of people. I don’t have a phobia of some sort. I just don’t like being compelled into a conversation, which I’d more likely to stutter or to tick. Why? Because I don’t like speaking my mind off. Plus, I’m freaking bad at speaking the language. I also don’t want to talk with a damn accent (don’t ask me where I got it), because I never work for any call center. Definitely, I will not be mistaken for one. Not that I have anything against the job… I don’t know.
I party. A lot. But, I choose the people. I’m too lucky to have new friends here that I can just be me with. It’s just that someone has not really made me talk. I love to, actually. It’s Bryan’s! But then again, I’m not comfortable enough what I ought to say.
Anyhow, I just realize (again) where this so-so Sunday feeling coming from. By that I mean, I’m awfully mindless and emotionless. I am defeated. *heavy gasp* It’s been a while that love is mocking me. It’s actually the fcking bully in my life. I have been trying so hard that I have even gone the “distance.” But today, I accept my defeat. What’s the use of hanging on and having so much faith, if I even think that the one person I truly love would not even cry for me if I’m gone, worse yet, dead? Yeah, I don’t really know if he will mourn. And then I recap:
1. I refuse to accept my calling, which is love everybody but never a somebody.
2. I have exchanged him for a lifetime supply of waves.
3. My passion transcends human love. At least, I need to and I have to….
Every inch of my being tells me to just let it all be. I just want to be normal, you know. I just want to be that girl – gullible and fickle-minded. Funny how I think I want to downgrade. Is it too much to ask to be a girl? My guy – or supposedly former or somehow like that – thinks I’m not a girl and I don’t need girly stuff. Do you know how pining that is?
I don’t know. This sweet surrender is worth the world. I don’t question it. I just have to be ready for the withdrawal part. It’s going to be ugly. Love is one hell of an addiction. But like I said… just let me cry. Just let me cry.
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