A long period of PMS involving a bit tears, lots of sleep, none productivity finally called for a trip out of the city.
I bothered all of the friends who were available to listen to my ranting. The same story was told so many times, and gradually I don’t feel much telling it anymore. But I still want to cry whenever I said ‘It reminds me of the time with J., and suddenly it becomes unbearable.’
The difficulty of having a public blog is the risk of people finding out what I wrote about them. But then what? Most of them don’t care enough, and the rest don’t even need to read this. I just told them straight. So I just write.
I didn’t realize how I felt about him, it might be a habit, might be a comfortable feeling of being indulged, might be an attached emotion to a source of warmth on a lonely journey which I haven’t felt after a long time. Or it might be a crush. Might be a close friend. Might be a brother. Might be a soulmate. I still don’t know. But after tons of ranting, I poured on my friends, there is one thing I realize. It started becoming toxic, unlike the one with Gà, it started making me ugly. It isn’t purely joy anymore.
And I hate me in this relationship. I don’t hate him, instead, I wanna thank him for what he did to me. But I can’t even look at myself without asking why and since when I am this disgusting. The time four years ago came back and haunted me, and I don’t want it. I don’t want to feel hopeless, powerless, so insecure and doubtful once again.
So here I am, in the middle of nowhere, standing in the middle of nowhere in a minus 8 degree winter night, looking at the Orion. I was wrong. I am wrong and I have to fix it.
The starry night calmed me down.
Thank you, my dear friends, for having tolerated me at my worst.