Saturday, 5 February 2011

perfectly shut.

"I don't write very well, but it is a joy to pen down everything."
-Denise Khoo, Facebook-

You may forget that I love you, but believe it or not, I actually do. I know you love me too, and I really do appreciate it. I know all the many things you have done for me, and I do realize that I mean the world to you.

It's just that, sometimes it's just so hard, you know?

You always do these things to make me so sad and miserable, and I hate it even more that I have to pretend that it's not affecting me in anyway. I hate it that I have to pretend that I'm normal, when in fact, I'm not. I'm broken. The thing that hurts the most is the fact that I try to pretend that nothing's wrong, even though there is. The thing that hurts the most is the fact that I actually have to muster up the strength to act okay, when other people are being effortlessly okay.

They're okay because they are. I'm okay coz I'm putting in lots of effort to be.

You broke me, and sometimes I get so upset for that. The fact that I have to pretend that you did not manage to break me, that's worse. I love you, and it's so hard sometimes. Sometimes your lack of common sense and lack of respect for others make me so angry that I leave my body, and watch it while it becomes this whole other being and it starts acting up and getting all crazy and bitchy. I watch helplessly from a far as a whole other monster takes over my body and start spewing words I never knew ever existed in my vocabulary, and doing things I never knew my body was capable of. The worst part is that, sometimes, when my body isn't actually doing those things, I find myself imagining my body doing it instead. When it's all over, I feel so guilty for doing this to you, because I know you love me and I know I had hurt you.

I wished you would stop do this to me: Making me so angry and having this monster engulf me and making my body do and say things that would hurt you and in effect hurting me back because I know I have hurt the person I love.

I'm just so tired of all this, you know? Why can't you just stop and be a normal person for once? This vicious cycle of me getting angry, me leaving my own body, my body doing crazy stuff, and then being engulfed with guilt for doing those things... This... this is wearing me out.

Just fucking stop now before I break, okay? Just fucking stop.

I'm not okay anymore, and you know why? It's your fault. I love you, I really do. But yeah, I blame you. I blame you for these emotional scars that may never heal. I blame you for doing crazy stuff and for forcing me to hurt you and then, in effect, hurting myself.

I've never admitted this before, but I'm not normal. I may look like it from the outside, but I'm actually not.

This happy, sociable girl you see? It's all a mask.

I'm broken, and it's time I stepped up and admit it. It's time I stopped hiding it, because I should be mature enough to know that this is nothing to be embarrassed about, that this isn't my fault.

I'm tired of pretending all this hasn't left a single scar on me, hasn't affected my studies, hasn't made me feel like I'd sometimes rather stay in Singapore than go back to my own home in Penang.

Sure, I'd miss home sometimes, but you know what I'd really miss when I think of home? I miss my huge double sized bed. I miss my air conditioned room. I miss my personal attached bathroom and huge walk-in closet/vanity corner. I miss the huge personal space that I have. I miss the clean environment that I seldom have over here in Singapore because I don't have a house helper to clean up after me on campus.

Sure, I'd miss you too. And her. And him. And everyone else in Penang. But I don't miss home per-se. I only miss the shell of it. I miss the house, not the home.I know this is cruel to say, but I guess in a way, it is true.

At the end of the day, after much contemplation, I sometimes almost think that I'd be happier far far away here in Singapore.

I wished I had the courage to say all this to you, but I don't. As of now, I shall keep my mouth perfectly shut and pray that you'll come to your senses, because I have a feeling that even if I were to tell you, it would never make any sense to you.

I am so confused, you know? I don't even know what to think anymore. It's like... I love you, but I always tend to avoid you, and I get so upset because I can't get near to the person I love, and it hurts even more to watch you being avoided by your loved one and you being so sad and lonely, and it makes me want to get close to you so that you wouldn't be lonely anymore, but then I realize that I can't.

I get so confused I could almost kill myself.

I hate it that you're doing this to me, you know? Making me so confused.

I think the only sensible thing to do right now would be to stop pretending. Stop pretending that I didn't get hurt, and stop pretending my life is perfect, because whether I like it or not, I. Got. Hurt.

Sometimes I want to cry so much, but I always held back my tears because I thought that if I didn't, the pretense would be over and I'd become this weak scarred and broken girl. Never did I realize that the fact that I was struggling to hold back and to push all these into the back of my mind and live on with my happy superficial life only made it even clearer to me how much it had affected me.

Until now.

It affected me to the point that I had to actually pretend I was happy with my life, while others genuinely were.

Stop now.

For your sake, for my sake, and for everyone else's that you love. It hurts me to see you so sad and lonely, and it hurts me to see you see me avoid you. For your sake, just stop.

Before it's too late.

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