The Ripped Soul

Tired of arguing with you, Anon.

You're tired of hearing people whine, not do anything about it - well, then don't come here anymore.

Talk to me in real life if that makes you happy, since I try my hardest not to whine in person, and all I do is just mask up, suck hard and carry my heavy pair of balls around.

After putting up a mask for hours in a day, the least I could actually ask for is just an hour to myself where I pour out how I feel about everything going on in my life.

And that too, I still hold back certain issues that bother me.

But if that's too much for you to handle, then fuck off. Friends like you, I won't need. I've said it to my ex, I'll say it to you as well. If I'm too fucking much for you to handle, the door is that way. Leave.

I appreciate you telling me I'm being ridiculous, and yeah, even a part of my conscience screams that at me everyday. I know this is shit. I know this is ridiculous. I look at myself and compare me to my friends with all their breakups and I wonder why they weren't like me. I wonder how they managed to find their way out. I wonder how they had SO much strength to move on.

Yeah, I tell myself I'm being ridiculous, holding on to stupid, silly, memories.

But those memories filled me with so much joy at one point of time. I look back and I feel a slight joy.. but the misery drowns me after, because I know it's no more.

I'm not even asking you, Anon, to be my shoulder to cry on. You either are, or you're not. It so happens you're not. Yet I'm not judging you, yet I'm not begging you to listen or read. You just do.

So if you feel that I'm being ridiculous, the door - it's that way.

I'm not saying I don't want to be friends with you, but if you can HATE your friends that are ridiculous, who keep whining, who refuse to do anything about their problems, then hey.. you don't have to be friends with them. And that means you don't have to be friends with me either.

Friends are there for each other whether you're depressed, alive or dead.

You say I'm lifeless now, and I know that. I feel that. How do you think that makes me feel? I miss that person I was, that I used to be.. so full of life. So bubbly, so energized, so happy.

I felt that when I was with her.
When she left, she took that away from me..

I'm trying to find myself again, trying to be happy again, but I don't know how.

And times like this when I try my fucking hardest and fail, that's when I break and cry.

They say "if you want to be happy, then just be!" That's the mask I put on everyday.
The problems still stick around. The issues are still there.

Remove the mask and you get this emotional side of myself on my blog.

Therefore being where things get personal, because that's just what it is. Personal.

If you feel you can't handle it or you think I'm full of it, then I don't need you in my life.

So go away and leave me alone, instead of hammering me and what I blog about my life in my tagboard.

----

Home early on Tuesday.. went out with Anna and Clare to his mom's.

Was extremely tired. But went anyway since Anna pulled me along.

Ate, heard stories, laughed, drank...

We were at the bar and Clare just poured this hella strong shot of chivas and a little coke. I took a sip of it and just went nuts.

The night was beautiful.. skies so bright, the moon, full and white, shining like a ball of light in the dark, night sky.

Anna knew I couldn't take it. And after Clare pushed, he knew I couldn't do it either. He told me I didn't have to finish the drink.

Funny how all I had to do was think of YOU, and off it went. One straight shot.

Kicked me in the head afterwards, but I didn't puke on myself, no.. not this time.

Sleep and then some, off the next day. Saw Anna off @ work, then went home. Rested, then Lyn called. Met her for Ice Age 3 3D.

Took home the glasses successfully even after being stopped by security. HAHAHA.

Walked around Chinatown, then Clarke Quay... so many memories.

Chinatown, that jam session with you and the guys.. and that ride home in the car. Your birthday, right?

Yeah..

Clarke Quay and I remembered you holding my hand as we walked to Clinic. The toilet.. and how I looked at you and you looked at me and I knew you wanted me. And then Layla got out of the cubicle, breaking our gaze from each other.

That walk that night.. when we sat next to each other and it was so hard to resist.

And you texted me this afternoon....

"Heyloo. Whatcha up to?"

I felt like a part of me just died. But I carried on the charade, texted you back like as if I was living a normal life.

Watching MJ's memorial, eating, asking you to go take a nap since you're sleepy, then saying I had work at 6.. don't mention the 'w' word because it's that bad.

I didn't have to reply. I didn't have to try and be civil.

But I was.
I replied. Nicely.

What does that say about me?

I'm a moron? Nothing new.
I'm a lover not a fighter? Probably.

I'm still in love with you?

Definitely not.

I still miss you?

Maybe.. definitely, maybe.