The Ripped Soul

First it was over my best friend. Then it was over sex.

Now its about what happened then when he did what he did.

I'm sick of everyone telling me they understand, or telling them what happened when they asked what did happen.

Reliving it every single time just isn't quite an awesome feeling.

Everyday I sit and ask myself why didn't I slap him, push him off, scream for someone, and what would've happened if I did all that.

Would I still be there? Would we still be together? Would you still be there?

It sucks, incredibly. I just try not to show it, and I try really hard not to think about it.

But moments happen, right? I'm at least allowed to think back for moments.

For all I know, that might've been one event in my life that would've changed things, made things, or broke things.

But I did what I did after it happened. I picked up my shit and left.

I know I always said I never liked the place, the supervisor sucked hardcore, the management was tad shitty, the schedule was a bitch because of split shifts. And worse, being called back morning shifts or being called back on off days because the place needed help.

Does it mean I don't miss the job? No. I do.

I miss the job. I miss cutting chicken, I miss dinner time and lunch hours. I miss the rush. I miss the flow, the fun. I miss jamming and screaming in the kitchen "I'm walking on sunshine". I miss being yelled at for not downing enough chips. I miss goofing around with Razali and Layla. I miss watching "destination unknown" on my itouch WHILE making kebabs. I miss everyone going crazy in the kitchen. I miss everyone working together to get orders out. I miss opening shifts with Laurence. I miss kitchen made lunches and dinners. I miss that feeling of being able to eat anything you like anytime you want. I miss that family feeling. I miss how with a certain crew in the kitchen, EVERYTHING would be fucking fine, from start to end.

Most importantly, I miss working with certain people in the kitchen. I miss my friends there. Or rather, I miss the people I befriended.

I miss working with Jasmin, Jeff, Raz, Layla, Mas even. I miss Kak Fah and her making me my special jug of tea every single day I'm working a split. I miss Kak Hamidah and when she asks me hows the salad today, and when she teases me saying I look really beautiful.

I miss them, every single day. Even more so now, since I'm working at a place where I don't have any friends and when I'm the only trainee.

I miss the job as well.

And I wish everyday I could go back, even though the pay was shit.
Because while the pay was shit and most days when work was fucking hell, I still enjoyed what I was doing most of the time. I had fun working in the kitchen. I had fun working with my colleagues. I had fun working with my friends. I had fun working with the people I made my family.

But after all that's happened, I can't go back. Because of ego, pride, maybe. But even more so because of fear of what might happen, of what could happen, of what will happen, and of what has already happened.

And that sucks hardcore. To want something, and not be able to have it.

And to those who are asking why didn't I make a report, why didn't I sue the guy --

It's complicated. Okay? Let's just leave it at that.

So if you think you understand where I'm coming from, think again. Please.