I feel so messed up, I don't even know where to begin. It's this whole wave of emotions and I don't know where to start. Maybe I should be spontaneous and write whatever that comes to mind, because wouldn't that really show your true self? You being spontaneous, your most honest side. If the following don't link at all, don't fret. Maybe they are not meant to link; maybe they are not meant to be understood by other people; maybe they are only meant to be understood by me. And maybe that is my intention, for everything to be understood only by me, but secretly, I hoped that someone will actually understand everything, understand me.
Such irony.
Sometimes, I really don't want to care about anything that involves feeling and feelings. Both the verb and the noun are horrible. They involves crashing, mentally and physically. The two are always connected, according to scientific studies. I think I would be much happier if I didn't feel so much and not have so much feelings.
I tried not to have any feelings. I tried to harden myself but I always fail. I cry at the littlest thing that affects me. My heart string immediately tugs whenever I think about something or someone.
I really did try to avoid all feelings. But as the saying goes, things have a way of coming around to haunt you. I learnt my lesson but I haven't applied that knowledge. I keep going back to my old ways. I kept telling myself I won't do it, that everything between us was over and we were going to be normal even when we hang out.
Clearly, I never think straight.
It happens every single time. I'm always used, over and over again. I'm always the second option. I'm always the one to find when loneliness strikes.
Sometimes, I felt that there are feelings. I hardened myself, I ignored those feelings. I was good at it until I remember about those feelings. Then everything comes crashing down. Turns out, the truth was that I felt much more than I thought I could.
It didn't matter. We didn't matter. We love different people, and at the same time, we can't keep away from each. I love another guy (D), and he likes another girl. But yet, we can bear touching each other. Sometimes, I do get guilty. Because I felt that I have betrayed my feelings. Not to say that D and I were ever going to be more than friends, but I treasure those feelings, a hell lot...
I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate myself for liking it. I want it to stop, but I dread the day when it stops.
Why did this person appear in my life?
